Se2en
by Puppet James
Summary: S2 AU. A new evil begins to wreak havoc on the Hellmouth and Buffy is met with new faces that change everything. As this dangerous entity grows more powerful, Buffy is desperate for allies to help her destroy it. She just might get her wish, but not in a way she ever could've expected. Spuffy story, for those in doubt.
1. Chapter One

**Authors Note;** This story already exists in eight chapters on the Elysian Fields site, but for those who wish to read it without the distracting gifs, I decided to put it up here, as well. I'll be adding all the already existing chapters over the next eight days, so everyone can get caught up for when I post the ninth and following ones.

**Full Summary;** When Buffy returns from her summer vacation with her father, she is forcefully drawn out of the depression she's been in since the Master killed her a few months earlier, when a new evil begins to put its spell on the inhabitants of the school above the Hellmouth. New faces are introduced and the story turns AU from the first paragraph. Also, so there's no confusion, this entire thing is NOT set in Sunnydale, California, but in Cleveland, the other American Hellmouth from canon. Reasons for that will be made clearer as the story moves along.

* * *

_A past that comes back to haunt you is trying to tell you something. Will you learn from it or repeat mistakes for a worse result?_

* * *

"Honey, I'm just worried about you. Your dad said you've been acting weird all summer. Are you sure you're okay?" Joyce asked her daughter as she parked outside the high school.

Buffy shook her head and put a fake smile on her face. "I told you I'm fine, mom. Just first day jitters, I guess. Y'know, being back after so long and everything?"

Joyce sighed, not sure she believed her. "Okay, sweetie, if you're sure. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, mom, see you." She said, distracted, as she got out of the car and slammed the door shut.

She moved as if in a daze, making her way into the school and through the halls. She missed the whispers coming from the cheerleaders, the snide look from Cordelia and Harmony, and the lusty stares of the football squad. Seeing nothing but the image in her head.

An ancient Vampire with a bat-like appearance.

She could almost taste the sewer water in her mouth, feel it running down her throat and into her lungs, as she lay still in the caves below the small town she lived in. Her arms started shaking and she forced herself to repeat the mantra in her head that she had thought of all summer long.

_I'm fine._

She sighed and moved into her first class of the day, prepared for an hour of not paying attention as the teacher droned on about a subject she could care less about.

The world could end at any moment and she would be the one person who could stop it; what did she care about trivial things like geometry, history and science?

She placed her head in her right hand and closed her eyes half-way, trying to still look like she was paying attention, while being able to focus on something else entirely. There was someone who wasn't going to let her do that, though, and it wasn't the teacher.

"It doesn't help, y'know," a voice spoke from her left.

Turning her head, she saw a brunette girl in a cheerleading uniform. She sighed and rolled her eyes, wondering what kind of barb this particular Cordette would come up with. "What?" She asked, prepared for the snide words that would soon come.

"What you do. It doesn't help. Not in the end." She was still looking ahead, at the blackboard.

Buffy's brows furrowed. "Okay, I have no clue what you're talking about."

The cheerleader suddenly turned to her. "You will."

Buffy's head flew up from the table and she realized she'd fallen asleep. One look to the left showed her an empty desk and she frowned, wondering what was going on. And then she heard the whispers around her.

Looking up at the front of the room, she saw a piece of white chalk flying around on its own, spelling a word on the blackboard.

_Soon._

* * *

"While I'm sure it is indeed something mystical, there really is no cause for alarm, Buffy. We will deal with it when it hits us, as we always do. For all we know, it's just someone causing a bit of mischief during class."

She thought of her classmate, Amy, whose mother had been a powerful Witch, and realized that anything was possible when you attended Hellmouth High. Sighing, she nodded in response to her Watcher and tried to put the incident out of her mind.

It had really freaked her out.

Her and her friends were gathered in the library, after school hours, helping Giles study up on some evil; nothing new there. But Buffy wasn't the researching type; she was the Slaying type, hence the title added to her name when she was fifteen.

She got bored quickly and excused herself, claiming the need to stretch out her sore muscles.

Though Giles surely must've seen right through her, he let her go, telling her to be back in ten minutes, ready to keep going. She swallowed a groan and made her way up the stairs, toward the stacks.

She just wanted to get lost for the moment.

Walking down the many rows of books, she began to feel as if she wasn't alone. An inner sense, if you will. Her brows furrowed and she stood completely still, trying to figure out why her innate Slayer radar was going haywire.

And then she heard it.

Whispers, coming from all around her.

"What is this place, haunted?" She spoke quietly to herself, deciding to investigate instead of going back for the others.

She moved further into the deep back of the library; a place much bigger than most first impressions showed. Zigzagging in between bookcases here and there, she eventually ended up far enough away that she could no longer hear the low murmur of her two friends and Watcher.

But the whispers were still there, as low as they had been two minutes ago, further back.

Weird.

And then she forgot all her experience as a Slayer; forgot her endless battles and hardened heart. For the first time since she was fifteen, she screamed like a little girl.

And then rolled her eyes at her reaction.

"What are you?" She said, not quite capable of hiding the tremor in her voice.

She had turned the corner of yet another bookcase and found herself face to face with a familiar, yet unfamiliar, man. Who had died several months ago.

"How dare you question me, after what you did?" He said in his normal voice, the only sign of his death being his severely mauled upper body and face, claw marks deep in his skin.

Buffy stepped back, slowly. "What I did? What are you talking about? Seriously, what are you?"

Her mind contemplated the possibilities, zombie, hallucination, shapeshifter, as she continued to back away from the unknown entity.

"You know what you did, young lady, and it is time for you to pay."

With those words, she decided to turn tail and run, not willing to fight something she didn't understand. She hated going in blind. But as she made her way back to the main room, she quickly realized that the thing remained one step behind her with each passing second.

"Giles!" She hollered when she came close enough that she knew he could hear. "Weapons!"

She pushed herself faster, finally making it to the others, vaulting herself over the stairs and catching the sword that her Watcher threw her. It all took a matter of seconds, and she turned to wait for the creature.

But it never showed.

After six agonizing minutes, Buffy dropped the sword down to her side and sighed, turning to her Watcher. "He was there, I swear." She muttered to herself. "I'm going insane, that's gotta be it."

Giles cleared his throat, cleaned his glasses, and walked closer to his charge. "Exactly who was it, Buffy? And I assure you, you are not insane. This_ is_ the Hellmouth, after all." He said, awkwardly patting her shoulder a few times.

"Yeah, Buffy, Giles is right. So, who was it?" An intrigued Willow leaned forward, expectant smile on her face.

The blonde looked suddenly insecure and worried, but answered them anyway.

"Principal Flutie."

No one spoke.

* * *

The evening was dark and the weather chilling as she sat at the window sill, staring out into the night. It was two in the morning and she'd already done her patrol for the night, but she just couldn't sleep, no matter how hard she tried.

They had gone through every explanation they could think of for what she had seen, except the one that seemed the most obvious to her.

She was losing her mind.

First, that creepy cheerleader, though she had probably fallen asleep in class, and now the old principal, in all his destroyed glory.

That had been a fun revelation; seeing the look on Xander's face and realizing that he had lied and he remembered everything that had happened that day.

Something she wasn't sure she was ready to forgive him for just yet.

But that was practically a zero on the scale as far as she was concerned.

On her way back from patrol she had stopped by Angel's apartment, but he had as little of a clue as they did. He tried to comfort her for a bit, but she had quickly made up an excuse and gotten the hell out of there.

Ever since her death, she hadn't been sure what to think of her almost-but-not-quite boyfriend. Even though he had been instrumental in rescuing her, leading Xander to the cave and instructing him on CPR... it wasn't enough anymore.

Not now that she had touched true death and managed to come back from it. Not to mention the darkness inherent in experiencing a bite; an encounter she was trying not to think of too much.

She'd heard rumors of victims becoming addicted and was not interested in going down that particular road.

Which was just one of the reasons she was staying away from the brooding Vampire.

Soul or no soul, he was just too dangerous, she'd decided. She'd just neglected to tell_ him_ that yet.

Sighing, she returned to her dilemma, reminded of her previous thoughts by the sound of her mother shifting, one room over.

Something was brewing in the Hellmouth, of that Buffy was sure. The only question was... what was it?

And would it turn out to be the cause of her second, and final, death?

* * *

For once not caring about the looks she garnered, Buffy stepped cautiously into the school the next day, on the lookout for anything that might seem out of place.

Of course, that wasn't saying much, this being a mouth of Hell and all.

She sighed when she saw nothing particularly weird, unless you count the complete lack of tact from Cordelia, and moved down the hall to the library. She was supposed to check in with her Watcher, even if it was just to let him know that patrol had been normal and Angel hadn't known anything about a new power rising in town.

Did he care that it left her late for her first class of the day? Nope.

Stupid tweed-wearing Brit.

Halfway down the long hall, she stopped just outside the door leading to the basement. The one off limits for students. There was a faint scratching noise coming from that area and the Slayer felt like sighing, again. Hadn't they learned from the incident with that girl the previous year, who'd been badly beaten by a huge monster?

Seriously.

Looking to see if anyone was watching her, she opened the door a bit and slid through, walking slowly down the steps. Carefully listening for any indication of what was going on below, much closer to the actual opening to the Hellmouth than she liked, to be honest.

But destiny was destiny, and this was hers.

As soon as her feet hit the concrete floor below, the scratching noise disappeared and a new sound entered her sensitive ears.

"Hello," she whisper-yelled into the dark room. "Who's there?" But the crying girl didn't respond.

Buffy walked further into the room, until she reached a hallway that forked in two. Furrowing her brows and chewing her lip, she contemplated her choice for five seconds, before going with her natural instinct and turning left.

She was rewarded by the sound of the crying growing louder as she moved forward.

"Are you okay?" She called out, her voice a little louder this time but still practically a whisper.

She didn't want to disturb whatever had frightened or harmed the student until she had a better idea of what she was dealing with.

There were plenty of twists and turns to contend with as she made her way closer, but the crying never got any louder. Until she passed the boiler room at the far end of the basement and spotted the girl in question.

A brunette in a cheerleading uniform.

Shivers ran down the Slayer's spine when the girl's cries instantly turned to scornful laughter. She looked up from her lap and Buffy noticed something she'd never realized in the classroom.

The brunette had burn scars running up and down her arms.

"Amber?" She whispered, brought suddenly back to last year and the try-outs, when a young girl had been set on fire by Catherine Madison.

She had later died from her injuries and an infection in the hospital.

So what was she doing here, now?

Buffy backed away, for the second time in two days. "You're like him, aren't you?" She didn't expect an answer.

The giggling cheerleader got up from her seated position, all the while staring at the Slayer as if she could look right through her. With each step the blonde took back, the brunette followed, menace in her eyes.

"I told you that it didn't help. Being different from other protectors won't help you, and neither will your friends. You're always alone in the dark." She spoke, a voice like something out of the Exorcist.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she whimpered, realizing she'd never been this frightened before in her years as the Slayer.

But she didn't know why.

"You will," she laughed, bringing Buffy back to the word on the blackboard.

Soon.

"What is it? What's coming?" She asked, desperate for answers.

Amber tilted her head, as if listening to something only she could hear. Then she smiled, an eerie smile, and pointed her fingers and eyes to the ground. "It's coming. From beneath you, it devours."

* * *

Twisting down cobbled roads and bent alleys, she keeps glancing over her shoulder, looking for her pursuer. She can feel music pounding loudly all around her, surrounded by buildings holding all sorts of nightclubs, but she doesn't hear a sound.

All she hears is heavy footsteps behind her.

More than one pair.

Her breath hitched and legs burning, she pushes herself as hard and fast as she can. If she stops she knows what will happen.

Death.

The cloaked beings come ever closer, even as she speeds up; they're faster than her and they're catching up.

Tears run down her dirty cheeks and she sobs, wondering why this is happening to her. What do they want with her? Why do they want to hurt her? Does she deserve this torment?

Questions all running rampant through her tired mind, she yells in fear and frustration as she hits the dead end brick wall.

The creatures surround her in a half-circle, no emotion in their eyeless faces. Her head whips from one to the other, trying to find a way out of this.

But she knows such a thing doesn't exist.

As if one being, they all jump on her, throwing her to the ground and immediately stab a rounded knife into her gut.

As her life slowly drains from her, Buffy woke up, a scream stuck in her throat.

Sitting up in the bed, she clutched her stomach and tried to get her breathing in order. Her eyes were stinging with tears, her heart racing in her chest, and her eyes searched the room around her in a panic.

It felt so real.

She knew it wasn't her; some innate sense of knowledge that came with her prophetic dreams. Because that's what this was, she knew this in her gut.

And it had happened while she was dreaming about it, which meant that somewhere in the world, a girl was dead.

But what her connection to the victim was, she didn't know.

And she was too tired to try and figure it out. But also too tired to fall back asleep. It was an evil circle, she thought with a sneer, throwing the cover to the side and stepping out of bed.

Since she was up, she figured she might as well get some homework done.

But first things first: writing down the dream for Giles.

And then she'd see what tomorrow would bring.

* * *

Rupert Giles had always been a very calm man; calm and collected. It was why the status as a Watcher was such a fit for him, despite past dreams of being a fighter pilot or grocer. He was completely in his element, sitting at a table, surrounded by old books instead of young people.

Not that they didn't exist these days either.

At the moment, the Watcher was engrossed in research about his charge's dream that previous night. She had come to him first thing, before class, which told him just how serious she had taken the warning.

And just how frightened she truly was.

Since Buffy's death just a few short months ago, Rupert had realized that he didn't think of her as his Slayer. He thought of her as the daughter he would never biologically have, if patterns kept repeating themselves with women. But more than that, she was his entire heart and he loved her dearly.

Even if he did have an awkward and almost non-existent way of showing it.

This realization had come with a few more epiphanies, about himself and about the Council he had once revered so. With this conclusion in mind, he had decided to wait until a later time, to inform his peers back in England of what he was currently researching.

Though the Council had a much more vast collection of books from which to choose, he was worried about the reaction of some of the Elders, especially if this new threat was as bad as it was beginning to seem. No, best to wait it out and see if they would need further help down the road.

He was the Watcher for a Slayer who had taken down Lothos when she was still new to her destiny. A Slayer who had faced the Master, surviving to tell the tale. Somewhat. He had no doubt that she could handle whatever the world threw her way.

He shouldn't have been so sure.

A few rooms over and downstairs, Buffy was once again roaming the basement halls, determined to look her own fear in the eyes and conquer it, once and for all.

But like her Watcher upstairs, she had no idea what she was up against.

A dark shadow began to edge its way out of the blackness and she wondered which one it would be, Principal Flutie or Amber Hearst. When the form became definitively male, she thought she had it figured out.

Until he stepped fully into the light.

Her hand came up to hover over her mouth. "Jesse?"

There was a soft smile on his face that would've fooled anyone... except that Buffy wasn't _anyone. _And she recognized the darkness in his eyes.

This wasn't Xander and Willow's dear friend. Just like when he was turned, this was the thing that had killed him. And yet she continued to remind herself, with each step forward he took toward her.

"If it isn't the Slayer, who likes to steal friends and lives. So nice to see you again, Buffy." He spoke, malice painting his tones as he stepped so close to her that she was forced to press herself up against the wall.

She had allowed him to see her weakness because she couldn't find it in her to fight him. To kill him. Again.

He stared deeply into her eyes as he continued speaking. "You thought you could find your place here? You thought this was your town? Wrong, wrong, wrong. This belongs to the darkness, to true power. You're just a little girl who fights rodents with a sharp stick. You don't know what exists in this world. You would tremble if you ever witnessed its true supremacy."

She smiled, slightly. "Wanna know where you went wrong? It was the last word in your long-winded speech. Not exactly something often spoken by a hormonal teenage boy." She pushed off the wall and against Jesse in the next moment. "You are just some mystical entity, possessing the bodies of people I couldn't save. You play your little head games, because you have no real power._ You're_ the one who doesn't know what this world holds."

He sneered at her. "And what does it hold, then?" He mocked her.

She shrugged and answered. "Me."

Kicking out with her foot, she didn't manage to connect before the mirage had vanished into thin air. She huffed, crossed her arms and almost stomped her foot. Why did he have to go and disappear, just when things were getting interesting?

She couldn't wait to bring this information back to Giles, though she would have to keep the true identity of the body away from her two friends. They had been through enough, just by being loyal friends of hers.

There was one thing she wanted an answer for, though. How could someone possess dust and bring it back to a full being? Because, while she hadn't witnessed it herself, she knew that Jesse was blowing in the wind.

All thanks to the dark look that sometimes crossed Xander's face.

She brushed off the invisible dust she was sure coated her clothing and turned around, making her way back to the stairs leading up. Only to quickly realize something very important.

She was lost.

"Great, just great," she muttered under her breath, trying to remember which way she'd come. "It's like the freaking walls move or something."

Ten minutes passed before she reached the boiler room, feeling like this was a recognizable enough place to start with. But before she could start moving toward what was hopefully the right direction, a new sound caught her heightened senses.

A strange, metallic banging.

Probably coming from the metal door to her far left, she thought with a satisfied smile, as she moved toward the noise. She had no idea what it was, but figured it was probably another possessed deceased, trying to frighten her.

Well, they would just have to be disappointed now, wouldn't they?

She was done being scared.

At least she thought she was, right up until she burst through the heavy door and found a completely unfamiliar picture in front of her.

There was a man sitting just a few feet away; but he wasn't anyone she'd ever seen before. Wasn't someone she hadn't managed to save, neither here nor in Los Angeles. He was a complete stranger.

And completely strange.

He sat on the floor, pressed up against the wall and in between storage of chairs, tables and boxes, as if he was trying to hide himself away from anyone who may come around. His pale hands were lifted up in the air, clutching his hair, a mixture of brown and blond and very unruly.

His skin was as pale as his hands, a pasty and stark contrast against the dark room. And, despite his obvious attempts to make himself as small as possible, he didn't seem able to sit still. He kept moving around, every so often; short, stiff bursts of movement, back and forth, side to side.

She was completely entranced.

He was muttering something under his breath, but it was low enough that even her supernatural hearing couldn't capture it.

Suddenly he moved to one side, leaving his open shirt to fall to the side and she gasped at the sight, reaching a hand forward despite not being anywhere close enough to touch. There were several crisscrosses of scars and newer wounds in one particular place.

Right over his heart.

Her eyes were stinging with liquid, her words frozen in her throat, and she stood there trying to figure out how to deal with this situation when something suddenly hit her, as if someone had poured a bucket of ice over her.

Her Vampire senses were going absolutely crazy.

Looking back at the stranger, she realized why. And yet she didn't feel the least bit threatened by his presence. If anything, it was the other way around.

He looked so innocent, and not just because he was wearing his human face; no, it was so much more than that. It was in every pore and fiber of his being, shining out of him like a bright beacon.

She had to save him.

Stepping as close as she could get, without scaring him off, she knelt down until she was face-to-face with him. She looked into the prettiest blue eyes she'd ever seen, though they were clouded over with deep emotion; deeper than she ever realized a Vampire could feel.

Even after meeting Angel.

As gently as she could, she reached out her hand to take his, and after some hesitation, he allowed it. His muttering was still going strong and she could only catch a few words here and there.

They made no sense to her.

Instead, she did what she did best.

She jumped in, head first.

"Hi, my name is Buffy and I'm the Slayer. Who are you?"

* * *

**Authors Note;** Hope you enjoyed this first chapter and, if you review, which I hope you do, please don't just ask me to update soon or to tell me great chapter. I'd love some actual feedback on what you enjoyed, what you didn't, and such.

Puppet.


	2. Chapter Two

_Revelations are good for the soul_

* * *

"So, what you're saying is that you have no idea who is behind the ghosties?" Buffy said, innocently twirling a strand of her hair.

Giles sighed at her behavior. "Unfortunately, yes, that is what I'm saying. My research has brought me no closer to an answer to your, eh, problem."

"Are you sure it wasn't just what it looked like? Ghosts?" Xander asked, oblivious to the look being shared between the Slayer and her Watcher.

"Yeah, definitely sure. It was probably something closer to a possession of some sort," she replied, feeling a slight sense of pleasure when the boy visibly gulped.

They still hadn't discussed the fact that he remembered the hyena incident, but they would. She deserved to get an actual apology, even if she had to listen to him stutter his way through it.

A few minutes later, Xander and Willow left the library, and the two remaining went into the back office to talk. Giles poured himself a cup of tea while Buffy paced the small space.

"I believe we can rule out possession, as it would seem impossible to take over a body that was turned to dust," the Watcher said, having been told of Buffy's run-in with the teenage boy who died last year.

"Uh huh, definitely. But what does that leave us with? I mean, the other two, Principal Flutie and Amber, they still looked like they did when they died."

"I would say some form of shape shifting, but I'd have to consult my books first. It's a place to begin, though, and that's all we have at the moment." He sipped his tea and sat down, changing the subject. "And what have we learned of our basement Vampire?" He raised a brow, still uncomfortable with Buffy's lack of slaying the dangerous creature, though understanding her curiosity.

The girl in question shrugged and looked awkward for a moment. "Not much, beyond the obvious. He's a Vampire, he's crazy and he's not trying to kill me, not even after I announced that I was the Slayer. Something's happening there and I need to find out what it is before I can decide what to do with him."

Giles, having decided to trust her judgment for now, had a thought. "Being that this is the Hellmouth, perhaps the energy seeping out is assisting in his... mental state. Removing him might lend some help to get his attention."

After putting his words through the British-to-American translator in her mind, she answered. "You mean take him out of the basement? Not a bad idea, but where would we put him? I doubt you'd want to shack up with a crazy and unpredictable Vampire."

"Quite right," he replied, adjusting his glasses. "But there is another option," he said, looking at her with those penetrating eyes.

She gulped and wondered if this would come back to bite her on the ass later. "I'll go by Angel's before patrol."

* * *

"Thank you for doing this, Angel, I really appreciate it. I know it must seem weird to you." She said, bowing her head in embarrassment.

"It's okay," he replied, though he agreed with her.

As far as he was concerned, the only Vampire in the world that shouldn't be staked was him. But he would help Buffy with what she said she wanted because he cared about her. And because he was just a little curious himself.

When the Slayer had come to him an hour ago, with news of an insane Vampire holed up in the basement of her school, the first thought in his mind was his Childe, Drusilla. Until Buffy used the term_ he_. Then, he was left bewildered and confused.

He'd never heard of another crazy Vampire before and had only created one himself, as Angelus.

All Buffy had described was someone pale, with both dark and blonde hair, and blue eyes. He had no idea who that could be and came to the conclusion that it was either a fledgling that hadn't been able to handle being turned, or someone he'd never met before.

It's not like there were Vampire get-togethers; not counting those within the same line of family.

There was a fleeting thought in the back of his mind, that he refused to let to the surface. He clearly remembered how insane he had been, for such a long time. After he was cursed.

But hope was a dangerous thing, so he pushed it away and continued to walk alongside the Slayer, down the long, dark hallways of the high school basement.

Until they came to a stop in front of a thick, metal door.

He could easily pick up the low whispering on the other end and, as Buffy moved to open the door, shock ran through him as he realized that he had heard that voice before.

It couldn't be.

But the door opened and he knew that it was.

"Spike?"

Buffy turned to him with surprise; this she hadn't expected. "You know him?"

He ignored his slight embarrassment at what he was about to admit, barely noticing it in his shock. "Before my soul, I turned a young woman into a Vampire. She, in turn, made him," he said, pointing to the seated man. "Spike."

"Do you know him well?"

Angel grimaced. "We traveled for twenty years, the four of us, but I haven't seen him in decades." He stopped Buffy from walking further into the room. "Be careful, though. He has a reputation for taking out Slayers." His words were so casual that he managed to miss her surprise and sudden carefulness.

Angel stepped up as close as he could get without sacrificing the ability to protect himself should the other Vampire attack. Only when he was pleased with Buffy's distance did he kneel down and clear his throat, not sure how to react in this situation.

Had Drusilla rubbed off on her Childe or was there something else going on here?

"Spike?" He said, for the third time, and there was still no reaction. Sighing at what he was about to try, he bowed his head for a few seconds. "William?"

Before Buffy could ask him why he called out that particular name, the Vampire in question lifted his head and placed sorrowful eyes on his Grandsire.

And Angel knew immediately what had happened.

Spike had a soul.

"Oh, God, how did this happen to you?" He whispered, lifting one hand and placing it carefully on Spike's shoulder.

Regardless of what they had been through together, or perhaps because of it, he knew he had to lay the past to rest. His Grandchilde, his family, needed him and he would be there. He remembered when he first got his soul; after weeding through the angst of his previous kills, one thing had stood out above all the rest.

Loneliness.

By putting his own past emotions towards the other Vampire to rest, he could ensure that Spike wouldn't have to go through the same thing. Angel instantly accepted Buffy's plea to let the man stay with him while he recovered from his insanity.

If Spike had taken care of Drusilla for over a hundred years, Angel could do this. Right?

He returned his attention to the now whimpering Vampire before him, unsure of what his next move should be. Praying that Buffy would keep silent behind him, he did the only thing he could think of.

Something he had sworn never to do again when he was cursed with a soul.

He knew that the foundation of Buffy's Slayer training had come from the Watchers Council's extensive collection of information on Vampires and their traditions. He also knew that even _they _were not infallible. There were many things they either knew nothing of or had little knowledge of. Claims, for example; no one knew the truth but the most powerful Vampiric families. Like the Aurelian line.

Another thing was kept a much bigger secret, rarely known even in their world. Most of the population of Vampires were fledglings, thanks to Slayers and Rogue Hunters, and the few Masters left only shared it with their most trusted Childer.

Angel was aware that the only reason that Spike would recognize this was because of Angelus' cruelty in the past. He had often used this to make the younger Vampire bow down to him.

Giles would salivate if he was watching this, of that Angel was sure.

So, without further ado, Angel leaned in close to Spike and let out a series of low growls, that would sound very menacing to anyone not aware of the meaning.

Because Vampires had their own language, that spoke directly to the inner Demon they carried around.

The response was instant, as Spike returned the growls and Angel began to get an idea of what had happened to him. Whether or not it was a curse, like his, he didn't know, but one thing was clear.

He only wondered why he hadn't sensed it through the bond.

Drusilla was dust.

After another series of growls, Angel quickly realized that he wasn't going to get anymore out of Spike, not right now anyway. The grief and insanity was too thick to push through. So he turned back to Buffy, still kneeling on the floor and forcefully ignored the shock and fear in her eyes.

"I'm going to take him out of here, like we talked about," he whispered, not wanting to upset the younger Vampire. "You're free to come with me and watch, but you have to stay several feet away. The situation is a bit volatile. You understand, right?" He pleaded her with his eyes.

Buffy took a moment to breathe, trying to get past the surprise of what she had just witnessed, before silently nodding and stepping back through the doorway behind her. She watched, in awed interest, as Angel coaxed the Vampire, Spike, out of the shadows and into the flickering lights of the basement.

Later, when the shock had worn off and she'd had time to really think, she and Angel would talk.

And for once, he would not be allowed to crypticize his way out of this. She wanted answers and she wanted them fast.

But while she watched the two Vampires continue their strange conversation, as the three of them walked slowly through the halls towards the stairs, she couldn't help but wonder one thing; would things ever be the same again?

Her life had certainly changed in the last five minutes.

What was next?

* * *

The slender brunette leaned casually against the hood of the car, legs crossed on the ground and cigarette calmly sitting in the side of her mouth. Her eyes were trained on the building in front of her, waiting patiently for a specific person to exit, so she could get on with things.

Twenty minutes after parking, she was rewarded.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, as soon as he spotted the familiar figure.

She shrugged and grabbed her cigarette in her right hand. "Not happy to see me, Tommy? And here I thought I'd be a sight for sore eyes."

He sighed and walked closer. "Whenever you're in the area, it spells bad news, so why don't you just tell me what you're doing here and move on. I'm not in the mood for games."

Throwing her cigarette to the ground, she stepped on it on her way over to him, staying silent until she was right in his face. "Don't talk that way to me, Tom-Tom. You forget how well I know you. But you're right, I should just get right down to business. I'm here about the box."

His eyes widened and he took a step back. "What? But, no, you can't do that. We had a deal."

"Yeah, and the deal is done. I told you, asked you, to keep it safe until I came back for it. Well, that moment has come, I'm back, and I want what's mine." Her voice was menacing enough to get her message across.

Tom sighed and bowed his head, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, I guess you're right. Don't know why you're showing up now, but I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you where I'm keeping the box, if you promise to never come calling on me again, in any way. I'm through."

She smiled, knowing he wouldn't see it since he wasn't looking at her. "I can live with that. So, tell me, where is it?"

He finally raised his head up again. "Remember the place where we found that Draknen?" He waited for her terse nod. "Three steps from where we buried the arm, that's where I hid the box. It's pretty far down, so you have to keep digging. You can't give up and think I lied, okay?" His hands shook, worried about her reaction.

She thought about his words for a few moments, before responding. "Alright, I'll trust you, but you better earn it, then. Thanks for your help and everything and... I guess I won't see you again. Take care, Tommy-boy."

He nodded and watched as she walked back to her car, got in and left, all the while wondering what she wanted with the mysterious box. Before turning for the path to his own vehicle, he stared at the spot she had just been in and whispered a last sentiment to the young girl.

"You take care, too, Dawn."

* * *

Spike was laid up in the only bed, forcing Angel to spend an uncomfortable day sleeping in the only chair in the room. He really needed to get some more furniture.

The younger Vampire had been tossing and turning all afternoon, leaving Angel with a fitful sleep as he constantly awoke to Spike's moans and yells. Not that he minded much; it was his choice to take care of him after all, but it did leave him a bit confused and cranky when a knock came on his door, just after sunset.

He was perhaps not terribly surprised to find the Watcher on the other side. "Buffy tell you what happened?"

"Uh, yes, she did indeed. She stopped by the library before her mother came to pick her up. May I come in?"

Angel stepped back and Giles passed him, walking straight over to the slumbering Vampire, though making sure he didn't go too close. "And you say he has a soul?" Giles spoke, back still turned on the brunette man.

"Yeah, there's no doubt. His eyes... anyway, I don't know how or why, he's hasn't been real forthcoming about that yet. I just know that it's there."

Giles removed his glasses and turned back to his companion. "Buffy mentioned the, eh, conversation you seemed to have with him. Would you mind telling me a bit about it?" He asked, itching to get out his notepad and pen.

Angel sighed and sat down in his chair. "If I do, then it stays between us. It doesn't get back to the Council. My kind has gone through a lot to keep this hidden from the rest of the world and it's not like the knowledge will make it easier for you to kill us. It's personal."

"Of course, I think we can agree on that." He brought out his paper. "I'll only take notes for myself, I give you my word."

Having gotten to know the Watcher a bit in the last few months, Angel decided to trust that his word was good enough and chose to share something he'd only ever shared with two of his Childer before; Spike and Penn.

"Let me get you some tea and a place to sit first," he spoke, not procrastinating, but knowing that it would be a long talk, with lots of surprises in store for the Watcher.

Ten minutes and a trip outside later, Giles was sat in the chair while Angel perched on a crate, procured from the alley by his building and slightly wet from a downpour earlier that day. The tea was warm and the slumbering Vampire quiet, for the moment. There was no better time to start.

"I had only been a Vampire for a few decades when Darla decided to take me to meet the Master. She became a completely different person as soon as he was mentioned; very serious and insecure. A few days before the meeting, we holed up in a house and she began to lecture me. She wanted to make sure I wouldn't do something stupid, like make him angry." He almost chuckled at the thought of what had happened.

"She wanted to make sure I had all the information I needed, to keep from offending the Master of our prestigious line. My first question to her was exactly why our line, the line of Aurelius, was so high up in the chain of Vampiric royalty. I knew it couldn't be because of the Master; he was only four hundred years older than Darla, after all."

Giles leaned forward, completely forgetting about his need to take notes, as the pad and pen fell forgotten to the floor. Unbeknownst to either of them, Spike had awoken behind them and was keeping silent, as he paid as much attention to the words Angel spoke to Giles as the Watcher himself.

"In a time when the calendar hadn't been invented and humans were sparse but existent, there lived a man. His name was Marcus Aurelius and he commanded much power. Servants in every corner of his lavish home and a town that bowed down to him. Nothing changed when he was turned; and before you ask, no, no one knows that particular story, unfortunately. We just know that he was turned.

"As the years passed and Marcus lost more and more of his own Childer, he decided on a new tactic. He created the occasional minion, preferring to have humans serve him still, and saved the prestige of Childe for when it was needed, or for when he came across someone worthy. One such person was found, when he reached his two-hundredth year as a Vampire.

"More is known of this Childe than of her Master. Her name was Iliad Amara and she had been a powerful Witch when she was human. She had created many things before and after her turning, and, in fact, nothing is known of her death. The most infamous of her creations is the myth of a Gem that grants impervious powers to the Vampire that wears this item. I'm sure you've heard of it," he said, waiting for Giles' nod before continuing.

"Iliad parted ways with Marcus after a few centuries; humans were becoming more powerful in the world and the Master Vampire wanted to spread his few Childer around as far as he could get. She traveled far, finally coming upon a village where she met and fell in love with a human named Elias. He eventually gave her his permission to be turned and the two of them became one of the first Claimed couples in Vampiric history.

"After a few decades together, they came across another Vampiric line; this one has died out since then, so no official name is known. As the story goes, though, there was a skirmish between them, a battle in which Elias was almost slain. When Iliad later realized that it was only the Gem that had been responsible for her lover still being in one piece, she realized that they, as Vampires, weren't as powerful as they had once believed. Not when pitted up against one another, and not against other creatures, as she learned when faced with a Lycan a few years later. Something had to be done.

"Along with Elias, Iliad returned to her Master's side and Marcus was glad to see her. Not only because she was his favored Childe, but because a war was brewing. Yet another Vampiric clan was rising and knew that, in order to gain true power, they would have to eradicate the Aurelius family. They were known as Canori; incidentally, the same line that gave birth to Lothos' tyranny.

"Before the battle could commence, Iliad brought her worries to Marcus who agreed with her. He tasked a few of his other visiting Childer to go into town and bring back the wisest of wise men that they could find. Once that handful was turned into minions, they began to formulate a plan. It was one of the men that came up with it, while listening to two Vampires one day. They had gotten into a heated argument and suddenly they were growling at each other."

Giles quickly picked up his notepad and pen from the floor, knowing they were getting to the punchline of Angel's story. Behind them Spike sat up, lucidity in his eyes for the first time.

"After weeks of hard work, the Vampires emerged victorious from their chamber; they had created a unique language that was only for the Aurelius line. When the battle began a few weeks later, they were the obvious winner, because they had a way to communicate while on the field, without any of the enemies being the wiser to it.

"As decades and centuries passed, this secret was passed to those not of the line, but as Vampires had gotten a bit more peaceful with each other by then, it wasn't such a big deal, really. But the Masters that followed Marcus agreed with him on one thing, that they only share the language with those they trusted. As far as I know, only myself, Spike, a second Childe of mine and a handful of others out there know of and understand this language. The rest are all dust by now."

"Fascinating," Giles said after a few moments of silence.

Angel just nodded; he hadn't spoken this much at once since before he was cursed. It had taken a lot out of him. Besides, he had other things to deal with; unlike the Watcher, he had not been completely unaware of the man behind him, though it had taken him some time to notice.

"You're awake," he spoke as he turned around, ignoring Giles' shocked sound.

When Spike's eyes met his Grandsire, the older Vampire knew that he was experiencing the same as Dru; bouts of brief sanity. Instead of dragging time out and risking losing him again, he quickly joined Spike on the bed and asked his questions.

"Wanna tell me what happened to you?"

Spike shrugged. "Not really, mate. Still a bit cloudy up here," he said, pointing a finger at his head. Then he looked at Giles. "Who's this, then?"

"Rupert Giles. He's a Watcher." Angel answered.

A shadow of his former smirk touched his lips. "Means there's a Slayer nearby, right?" And then he winced.

Angel almost laughed, clapping Spike on the shoulder. "Might wanna quit it with the murderous thoughts and trips down memory lane, Willy. I might not know what happened, but I know you have a soul now."

"Bloody hell, can't keep a secret these days, can you?" He sighed, shaking his head.

Giles sat, silently watching the byplay and, for the first time, realized with whom he was dealing: William the Bloody. It hadn't reached his consciousness until now, after the mention of Buffy and her title. Though he remained wary, he found he wasn't as fearful as he could have been, fully believing in Angel's claims that Spike had a soul.

The rest would just have to show itself later, if the younger Vampire decided to stick around.

Just in case, he would make Buffy read up on him, though. Could never be too cautious.

"One thing I'm wondering, though," Spike spoke suddenly, shocking the other two men out of their thoughts.

"What's that?" Angel asked, wondering if... no, _when_ Spike would get back to his annoying self.

"You said no one knew what happened to Iliad, yeah? But what about this Elias bloke you mentioned?

* * *

It was two in the morning and very, very cold, but the young girl persevered. Wiping her hand across her forehead, she put down the shovel and decided that it was time for a break.

And if she didn't find the box within another hour, she was breaking her promise to Tommy.

No doubt.

At just fifteen years old, Dawn Devereux had seen more than her share of things, both odd and ordinary. She was independent, clever and, if needed, very ruthless.

As Tom could tell you.

She knew that something was rising, could almost feel it through the earth, right down to her fingertips. So she needed to find whatever she could to keep herself safe; and that meant searching for her precious box.

The only reason she had left something that valuable with her old friend was the knowledge that he was scared shitless of her, and that said a lot about just how safe he would keep her belongings.

After an eight-minute smoke break, not that it would help with her heavy breathing, she jumped back down into the hole and got back to work.

You see, Angel was wrong. It wasn't just Vampires who knew the story of Iliad and Elias. As mentioned before, Dawn Devereux was a very clever girl.

And mighty resourceful as well.

As the shovel hit something hard in the ground, she grinned, threw the tool away and knelt down to finish excavating the rest with her gloved fingers. Before long, she had her box in her hands and was making her way back out of the hole, not caring about trying to cover it up again.

By the time the cops found it she would be long gone.

Box in hand, she headed for the bus station and a one-way ticket to Cleveland.

And the Hellmouth.

* * *

Buffy knocked on the door, shifting on her feet and not knowing exactly how she should act. She looked over her shoulder as if she was a naughty kid trying to avoid getting caught doing something she wasn't allowed to do.

She sighed in relief when Angel opened the door and let her in.

One glance at the empty bed, along with the sound of the shower running, told her exactly where the other Vampire was. She walked into the kitchen and set down the brown bag full of blood; grade A hospital blood, no less. For some reason, she had decided to steal the expired kind instead of buying the fresh pig kind at the butcher.

She told herself it was because she didn't want to spend her allowance on blood, but she wasn't convincing anyone.

Since Giles had filled her in a bit on William the Bloody, she had read up on the infamous vampire on her own. The one thing that had surprised her the most was her lack of hatred for the Vampire that had killed and fought so many of her sisters. It wasn't just that the soul made such a huge difference, but the effect it had on her when she found him.

He had looked so lost and she felt like she could empathize with that, more than she'd like to admit, especially to her friends, family, Watcher and almost-boyfriend.

Who was staring oddly at her.

She realized what he was looking at. "Oh, right. I got some blood; there should be more than enough for the both of you, at least for a few days."

Angel knew she hadn't been thinking of him when she'd stolen it, but he wouldn't reveal that to her. "Thanks," he simply replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets and wondering how long he would know Buffy before talking with her stopped being awkward.

Perhaps when she was no longer a teenager?

In the next room, leaning against the tiles and soaking up the warm water beating down his back, Spike was unaware of the tension growing in the kitchen. With his eyes closed, he saw only three sole images in his mind. They played on repeat in his waking hours, while his past crimes bled through his head during sleep.

He never got any rest anymore and it hadn't even started with his spanking new soul. No, it had all started almost exactly three years ago, with one of the three images that haunted him.

A small town in Uruguay, holed up to wait for the sun to set, Spike was wrapped up completely in his Dark Princess, Dru. Listening to her rambles about the pixies and the stars, he remember feeling happier than he ever could have imagined.

And then, as if it was the most common thing in the world, Drusilla spoke to her doll, smiled, walked to the door, opened it and walked out.

Right into Mr. Sun.

What the hell she was thinking, Spike couldn't say. After getting past his grief, he had felt angry. Angry at Drusilla for what she'd done, angry for the power behind her visions, angry at Angelus for turning her insane so she wouldn't know not to greet the light of day.

Just. Plain. Angry.

It was a year later that the second image would imprint into his mind. It was also the one he'd rather not think of and the one that assaulted him the most. In this moment, trying_ not_ to think of it, he saw the blood painting the streets, heard the cries of agony and fear, smelled the sweetest scent of tears and despair.

And it made him want to puke, just as it had done the day it happened.

Swallowing thickly and pushing against the desire to go back into his own insanity, he forced himself to think of the third, most recent image.

The trials in Africa.

He thought he knew what pain was; he was wrong. Eighteen years of Angelus, a hundred years of Slayers and angry mobs, even the loss of his lover...none of it matched what he had gone through to get his soul back.

A soul he wasn't even sure he wanted.

All three events, all three images, had led him to where he was now. And he didn't just mean his Grandsire's apartment. No, he meant the Hellmouth.

He could feel it bubbling beneath him, though not as strongly as when he'd been living just feet away from the entrance. He'd lost track of how long he'd been there, he'd been so completely lost in his own world.

And yet he remembered Drusilla, no longer dust, coming to him in the darkness. Dancing around him as she used to, speaking in riddles, giggling at something only she could hear. And he remembered the only lucid words she had spoken to him.

As they ran through his head he shivered, despite the warmth of the shower.

From beneath you, it devours.

And it would.

Soon.


	3. Chapter Three

_When the earth begins to shake, it is time to get your affairs in order_

* * *

"I still can't believe you didn't stake him, Buff," Xander said, for what was not the first time.

Willow turned to the Slayer and, together, they rolled their eyes at their friend. "I can explain it a million times and you'll never get it, Xand. So why even try?" Buffy shrugged, and she and the redhead shared a laugh.

"Hmm, maybe, I just don't like it."

"And you don't have to," Willow spoke up in defense of Buffy's decision. "I have to admit, I'm not too happy with it, either, but unlike you, I know how to keep my mouth closed."

Xander sighed; he knew he wasn't getting anywhere with them today. "Fine, fine, I'll let off." For now, all three thought silently.

They came to a fork in the road and stopped walking. Buffy had been convinced, two months ago, to let them walk themselves home from here. And with each night that they arrived home safely, she felt a little bit better about that decision.

They said their goodbyes and each went their own way. Buffy was headed for the first cemetery of the night, while the other two headed home to their families and comfortable, safe bedrooms.

How she envied them sometimes.

Xander's house was closer, so by the time he turned the doorknob and walked in, quickly bypassing his inebriated parents and running up the stairs to his room, Willow still had another five minutes before she turned down onto her street.

It was five minutes too long.

There was nothing out of the ordinary, at first. The redhead passed by an older woman, out walking her dog, and they exchanged polite nods with one another. Then, just as the two crossed paths, the earth began to shake.

Willow suddenly found herself unsteady on her feet and looking back at a now scared neighbor. "What's happening?" The other woman cried out in shock and fear.

The redhead made her way carefully over and grabbed her arm. "It's okay, it's just a..."

Whatever she was about to say never made it out, because at that moment something happened - something that Willow had never experienced, in all the quakes of her life. The pavement began to shatter, a huge crack spider-webbing like broken glass, quickly moving its way toward the square of sidewalk where the two females were standing.

"Oh, no!" the redhead exclaimed, realizing now that this was less natural disaster and more supernatural event. "Run!"

But it was too late; the crack widened and a hole opened up in the ground just below them. Willow managed to pull on the woman's arm before she went all the way down. Unfortunately, the dog wasn't as lucky.

"Rocky!" The woman cried, pulling on a leash that came up empty.

Willow suddenly felt like throwing up, nauseated with the thought of what may have happened to Rocky, but she knew she had to be the strong one now, especially since Buffy wasn't here and it was too risky to go looking for her. "We have to get to somewhere safe, it might come back."

The woman looked up at the young girl, awed at her strength in the face of such a horrifying event. Numbly, she nodded, and allowed the redhead to steer her in the direction of her house.

"What's your name?" She asked, trying to calm the woman down with idle chit-chat.

"Nancy," she replied, in a shaky voice.

"Hi, Nancy, I'm Willow. My parents are just around the corner, then we'll get you some warm tea and figure out what's going on, okay?" But she wasn't okay on the inside, despite the smile she plastered on her face.

What was she going to tell her parents? What was she going to tell Nancy? What was she going to do?

Where was the Slayer when you needed her?

Willow spotted her house, finally, and steered Nancy down the walkway to her front door. And just as she was placing the key in the lock, the earth began to shake. Again.

This time they both knew what it meant.

Unfortunately, Willow's fear made her fumble, and the sudden crash of exploding pavement caused her to drop the keys on the ground. The sound was so loud, so jarring, that the redhead wondered if she would ever be able to get it out of her head.

The two females fell to the ground by the door, backing up until they hit wood. The rumble sounded as if it was quickly headed their way, but there was nothing they could do; Willow was sure that being inside a house wouldn't stop this creature, whatever it was.

And for the first time since Buffy came to Sunnydale, Willow wished she was dealing with a Vampire.

At least she had a shot, however little, at fighting or escaping them.

Mere feet away from where Nancy and Willow lay, shaking and afraid, another hole formed, but instead of pulling something down with it this time, the creature came out.

And the girls screamed.

* * *

Giles woke to an intrusion, but couldn't place what it was through the thick haze of sleep. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes and grabbed his glasses. It was while wrapping his robe around his body that he realized what the sound was: a frantic knocking on his door.

Thinking only of his precious Slayer, he ran clumsily down the stairs, almost falling down the last three steps, and quickly made it to the front door.

He opened it on a girl, alright, but not the one he was expecting.

"Willow?" He didn't ask what she was doing here at this hour; the answer was clear on her face. "What happened, dear?"

"Long story, let's get inside first. Oh, this is Nancy," she said so quickly he was lucky to catch the words.

"Uh, hello," he said, looking at the twenty-something woman behind the redhead. "Have a seat, please. You both look frazzled; would you like something to drink? Perhaps some tea to warm you up?" He said, despite the balmy weather outside.

They looked positively petrified and shivers ran visibly up and down the both of them.

"We really don't have time, Giles," Willow said, as she paced the length of the living room. "The only reason we came here is because it was the closest place, and with Buffy on patrol, there's no saying how long it would take to find her."

"Alright, then. Have a seat, though, and tell me what happened."

Ten minutes later, Giles was up to speed and getting out his weapons. He wasn't sure how to deal with the creature. From the description he had no idea what it even was, let alone how to fight it. The best they could do was arm themselves and head out to look for Buffy. If they were lucky, they'd find her before the monster found them.

"I'm not going out there," Nancy stated, shaking her head and staying put on the couch.

Giles sighed. "Alright, you stay here. But lock up behind us and keep safe."

But Willow was shaking her head. "No offense, Nancy, but that creature looked right at you in front of my house. Something tells me it wasn't a random attack and it wasn't after me. If you don't come with us, it's going to come here and you'll be all alone with no way to protect yourself."

While Giles watched the woman realize this and rise from her seat, he felt a bubble of pride inside. The scared, timid redhead was gone and in her place was a young woman with the confidence that told him she could take care of herself and others. Seemed he was wrong in thinking that Buffy made a mistake, pulling her friends into her fight.

Xander had yet to prove himself, but he now had confidence that it might happen eventually.

"Giles, you ready?" Willow spoke, pulling him from his thoughts. He nodded, following the two out.

Praying they would reach the Slayer in time.

* * *

He didn't even notice it, when the blood went cold in his cup, despite the fact that it was sitting in between his palms. All he saw was Spike. He sat in the chair, staring at the slumbering Vampire, going over what little he had learned in the past week of them sharing a small apartment together.

He could count it all on one hand; Drusilla was dust, three years on. Spike had a soul, and though he didn't have confirmation, Angel felt it wasn't by curse like him. And something had fundamentally changed in his Grandchilde, and not because of the soul.

What the older Vampire didn't know, though, was that he had just thought of the exact same three things that were haunting Spike's waking hours.

And the reason the blond tried to sleep as much as he possibly could.

In the five days since bringing him back from the basement, Angel had barely seen Buffy. He no longer followed her on patrol, be it in the shadows or by her side. He wasn't up on the latest Demon news, so he never went by the library with information for her. He was too busy... well, brooding, really, if he was being honest with himself.

Brooding over the whole conundrum that was Spike.

In the rare moments when he was actually awake, he hardly spoke, which was quite a change. Before the curse, Angelus would've done anything to shut up the younger Vampire, and often did. But this silence... it was truly scaring him a bit.

When he wasn't silent, he was mumbling under his breath or forcing Angel into a conversation about all of the bad things they did together. He even had the guts to remind the older Vampire of the two years, after his curse, that he had traveled with the other three. To remind him of the kills he had made.

Evil doers or not, Angel was not the judge, jury and executioner, and Spike reminded him of this.

Constantly.

But he was beginning to think that that wasn't such a bad thing. He wondered how different things would have been, if he hadn't been alone for so long. Something told him that Spike with a soul never would've let Lawson loose after turning him. Or fed on a dying man in a diner. Or left a hotel full of people with a Demon, just because they'd hurt his feelings.

Or anything else he'd done since getting his soul.

He should've know it wouldn't be easy; after all, humans had souls. Hitler. Stalin. Manson. Did he really have to go on?

The knock on his door saved him from further thought, and he sighed in relief... until he realized the it was almost midnight.

Buffy wouldn't be done with her patrol for another few hours.

And just like Giles had a half hour ago, Angel opened his front door to people he'd least expected.

"Angel, we need your help," the breathless Watcher hurried to say.

They'd been through another encounter with what appeared to be a large worm on their way through town and had found themselves close enough to the Vampire to take that chance.

But he wasn't the only one listening.

"What are we dealing with?" Spike said, coming up from behind Angel.

The brunette Vampire turned to his Grandchilde. "No, Spike, you're still weak."

The blond frowned. "Never too weak for a good fight, Peaches, you should know that. Tell you what, if I start to feel like I can't handle it, I'll step back and not get in the way of the rest of you. How's that sound?"

Angel sighed, knowing it didn't matter what he said; Spike would come either way.

They grabbed some weapons and followed the three out of the building, listening as Giles and Willow filled them in. Before Angel had a chance to say that he hadn't heard of a monster like this in the past, Spike jumped in.

"Sluggoth Demon," he stated, looking at the Watcher.

He removed his glasses and stared back at the bleach-blond. "Of course, why didn't I think of that?"

Spike shrugged. "Probably 'cause they're extinct; 'least they're supposed to be."

"Then how is this one all being with the here and now?" Willow asked, walking to the right of Giles, Spike on the other side of the Watcher while Angel stayed back with Nancy.

The Vampire shrugged again. "No clue, pet, but from what you described, pretty sure that's what it is. Think we shouldn't wait to kill it, just so we can ask," he smirked, getting a small laugh out of the redhead.

"What is a Sluggoth Demon?" A frightened Nancy asked and Giles attempted to reply, though she hadn't really wanted an answer.

That was when she started to babble about ex-boyfriends and stupid choices, about trying to make a new start for herself and meeting some woman at the bar who'd understood what she was going through. Not five minutes later, an angry Spike grabbed her, though not too tightly, shook her for a bit and then spoke. "Did you, by any chance, make a wish to this girl you met in a bar?"

Giles, Angel and Willow had no idea what meaning this had to the Vampire, but then, they didn't know as much about the supernatural world as they thought they did. Spike was another story. His travels to find information on Slayers had taught him plenty about the world in general, and he was very knowledgeable about Demon-kind.

"I-I don't know, maybe," she stuttered, wide eyes staring into his. "I was drunk and upset, we were just talking."

"There's no such thing as_ just talking_ to a Vengeance Demon, pet, trust me."

"Good lord, what's a Vengeance Demon, Spike?" Giles asked, though sensing the seriousness of the statement.

The Vampire turned to the man, releasing Nancy from his hold. "Vengeance Demons," he sighed, running a hand over his face, "are dangerous in a very subtle way. They grant wishes. But not like you'd think; there's no expensive cars and millions of dollars with these bints. It's all about twisting the words of the wisher."

He turned to Nancy and she blurted out her words. "I may have talked about my ex, Ronnie, being a real worm."

Spike raised his brows at the Watcher. "And there you have it. She wished worm and Ronnie-boy became a Sluggoth."

Angel was the next to speak. "You mean that thing is really human? What do we do, then? We can't kill it, not anymore."

"We'll have to get this Demon to undo the wish," Giles spoke, matter-of-factly.

Spike snorted. "Bloody good luck, Watcher. These are evil chits, working for a higher power. Don't know exactly what, but know they ain't in the business of undoing their work. Only way to do that is to break their talisman, and all that does is undo their last granted wish."

Willow saw the point first. "And she may have granted another one since Nancy's."

Giles sighed when he realized that they were right. "Then I suppose we'll just have to find out if she's granted any other wishes since meeting Nancy, or find a way to undo it with a spell. Where did you say you met this woman, miss?"

Nancy felt uncomfortable with everyone looking at her, but answered after a few seconds. "It was O'Hannigans down by the mall. I think she said her name was Anya."

"Alright, then here's what we will do." Giles spoke, taking charge. "Angel and Spike, the two of you go see if you can't track down Ronnie. You'll need to bring Nancy, as the Sluggoth goes where she is. Should he show, stall him until we can come up with something." Then he turned to the redhead. "Willow, you and I are going to O'Hannigans to find this Demon."

As they split into two groups, Spike wondered exactly how this was going to go down. While he'd never fought a Sluggoth before, he'd heard and read enough of them to be worried. If they were stalling...

Should it come down to it, whose life was more important? A scumbag human or him or Angel?

His soul wasn't even sure.

* * *

She clutched her books tighter to her chest as she made her way down the sidewalk to her house. This was the part of the day she always dreaded: returning home from school.

Her footsteps were slow and sluggish, her eyes darting back and forth, hoping for someone to come and distract her, keep her away a little bit longer. But as it happened everyday, she reached her front door without any interruptions.

"Joelle, is that you?" Her mother called out, as she did every afternoon.

It was never anyone else.

"Yes, mother, I'm home," she replied, setting down her book bag by the table and walking into the bathroom where the older woman waited, kneeling by the bathtub.

"Good, then we can get started."

Joelle tried her best not to show her fear as she removed her coat and shirt, bound her hair in a ponytail and knelt down next to her mother. With the calmness of any other normal task, Pamela Savidge grabbed the back of her daughter's head and pushed it into the tub, holding it down as she hummed a tune under her breath.

This was a daily ritual for the Savidge family; five days of the week.

Pamela believed that Joelle's time spent in school put her at risk and there was no larger risk for the firmly religious woman than to have sinners rub off on her virginal daughter.

So her solution was a baptism, each and every weekday.

Joelle sat with her face under water, getting light-headed and wondering how long she would be kept under this time. Most days, it was nothing dangerous, but she still remembered what happened a few weeks ago.

There had been a scandal in the news, about a young couple caught behind the bleachers during band practice. Since Joelle played the flute, Pamela was convinced that the sin had rubbed off on her and had kept her under water for so long, that she had been difficult to revive.

And she knew her mother would never involve the authorities, leaving her with the knowledge that one of these days, she would die.

Right there on the bathroom tiles.

Joelle didn't know why her mother was the way that she was; if it was childhood trauma, if she herself was raised this way or if she was just_ that_ religious. She remembered secretly watching the movie_ Carrie_ a few years back and instead of being scared, she spent each night for a month, praying she would turn out to have magical powers too.

It had yet to happen.

Her father had abandoned them a long time ago, but Joelle couldn't even say that that was why her mother did what she did; it was the reason he left. He decided that he couldn't watch what Pamela did to their child so, instead of protecting her, he vanished.

Joelle wasn't sure which parent to hate the most.

But she knew which one she feared.

Her head began to dim and spots formed in front of her eyes and just as she was beginning to lose consciousness, her mother pulled on her hair and brought her back up to the surface.

"There's a good girl. Now, go dry off and come help your mother with dinner," she said, getting off the floor and leaving her daughter wet and frightened on the bathroom tiles.

Wondering when someone would come save her from this hell.

* * *

As the unusual gang of fighters went off to save a young woman from her hexed ex, the Slayer was lying comfortably safe in her bed, dreaming of another place.

And another girl.

Despite being the third dream in less than a week, Buffy had no sense of knowing that she was dreaming; all she felt was the fear and pain that the girl being chased felt.

And she knew she was going to die.

Each time she woke, a scream strangled in her throat, she felt like she had died all over again, just like when the Master had killed her; it was that realistic. It frightened her and Giles still hadn't come up with an explanation.

He just kept saying that Slayer dreams of past girls were normal, but it sure didn't feel that way. Besides, all the girls had one thing in common: their killers.

Strange, hooded and cloaked men with no eyes and wicked, curved knives. Men who looked like monks, but without the holy mission to protect all life.

She shivered at the thought.

This time, she had been a girl in a foreign-speaking country, running over fields and past groves of trees; a forest of some kind. And just as before, it hadn't mattered how fast she pushed herself; they eventually caught up with her. She had been on a cliff, overlooking the ocean, when they came up behind her, one of them shoving his moon-shaped blade into her belly and slicing through her like butter.

She knew that it was too late to call or go see Giles, he had to be fast asleep by now, but she also knew she had to do something. So she quietly got out of bed, stepped into her slippers and tip-toed out into the hall. She wouldn't know what to say if her mother caught her at this hour, so she was as silent as a mouse as she made her way down the thankfully creaky-less stairs.

Buffy passed through the hallway into the kitchen, where she grabbed the basement knob; flinching slightly when a noise was finally made. Enhanced Slayer hearing told her that her mother was still sleeping, and she bit her lip, carefully opening the door the rest of the way.

Once downstairs, she went to the far end of the room and pulled on one of the boxes that had gone unpacked in all this time. Both she and Joyce knew why.

She undid the flaps while sitting down on the dusty floor, not caring about her previously pristine sleep pants. With a heavy sigh, she dug in, pulling out item after item of her past.

She couldn't think of a better way to distract herself.

* * *

The dawn rose over a new day as Willow snuck into her house through the terrace by her bedroom. She yawned so large that her jaw cracked a bit, and it didn't take long for her to throw herself into bed, unable to keep her eyes open.

It had been such a long night and with no result; they hadn't found the Demon.

Eventually, she and Giles had been kicked out of O'Hannigans, closing time having drawn near with no sign of a woman calling herself Anya. When they had met up with the Vampires and Nancy, they'd discovered they had had just as much luck.

While they_ had_ been assaulted a few times by Ronnie, they had been unable to keep him around without having to harm him, and so they let him slither away, back into the ground.

Thankfully, according to both Giles and Spike, the Sluggoth race hibernated in daylight hours and Nancy would be safe until the sun went down again.

In the meantime, they would let Buffy and Xander in on the situation.

As Willow lay in bed, she found it surprisingly difficult to fall asleep. She couldn't stop thinking about tonight; it was the first time she had been a real part of the world Buffy and Giles lived in. Sure, she'd helped with research in the past, but never anything this hands-on.

It was one part scary and one part exciting at the same time.

She wasn't sure what that said about her.

Although she wondered what Buffy's reaction would be to their news, she had a feeling that the Slayer would be proud of her, even if she might not know or show it. Deep down still counted, the redhead decided.

She giggled slightly when she thought of Xander; he wouldn't be too happy to be out of the loop, once he'd gotten over his worry for her well-being. He wanted to be such a bigger part of the slaying, and not just because it kept him close to his crush. Ever since Jesse, the boy had practically been salivating at the thought of exacting a little vengeance on the monsters that roamed the town.

But Buffy was right to keep them both out of it; tonight had just been a mere necessity, really. Neither she nor Xander really brought anything to the table that the others couldn't live without. Willow was a wiz on the computer, but they had Ms. Calendar for that stuff, if it was needed. Xander didn't really have any special powers or skills that seemed to make much of a difference, either.

Except for getting into situations that Buffy would then have to rescue him from.

Willow frowned; she shouldn't think things like that about her best friend.

No matter how annoyed she could sometimes be by him.

Her thoughts quickly took a turn, thanks to her guilt. She thought of what they had been searching for tonight: a Vengeance Demon. She wondered what their origin story was, how they came to be, and who this greater power leading them was...the one that Spike had mentioned.

At first, Willow had found it intriguing, how they could grant wishes, even despite the Vampire's assurance that they tended to twist the words. The more she thought about it, the more curious she became and wanted to meet this mysterious Anya.

She knew it was probably very wrong, to be this interested in someone evil and more than likely soulless, as well, as those two often went together in their world. But she couldn't help it. Constantly learning new things was one of the main reasons why she had been so adamant about helping out Buffy when she first found out the truth.

To Willow there was nothing like fresh information.

Or fresh for her, at least.

But with her tired mind doing twists and turns in her head, she couldn't keep her thoughts on one topic for long, and soon she was thinking of something else that happened tonight.

How quickly opinions could alter, she thought, remembering the time when Buffy was walking her and Xander home and she had been wholly against the idea of the new souled Vampire in town. And then she had spent an evening with him.

He was nothing like Angel.

There was nothing mysterious about him. No shadow of the unknown to make him just that much more frightening. He appeared open and, more surprisingly, honest. She wouldn't be shocked if ninety percent of what came out of his mouth was the complete truth.

Unlike Angel who had a habit of covering the facts, of hiding things until it stared them in the face.

Usually with fangs attached.

She would never mention this to Buffy of course; she_ was_ her friend, after all. The Slayer had obvious feelings for the older Vampire and Willow was trying to be supportive of that, as friends were supposed to be. But something told her that Angel had a hell of a lot more secrets just waiting to see the light of day.

No pun intended.

The redhead surprised herself by realizing that if it came down to a choice, she would rather be locked in a building with Spike than Angel.

Less than three hours in his company and she felt safer with him than the one she'd known for more than six months.

What did that say? About Spike? Or about Angel?

She wasn't sure, but she knew one thing.

They were all about to find out.


	4. Chapter Four

_Revelations are important if changes are to be successful_

* * *

"You went after one Demon without me and sent two Vampires, one of them unstable, after another, who was really a human being and an innocent. And said Vampires were also protecting the woman that the Demon-man was after. Have I got this right?"

Okay, Willow thought, maybe she was wrong about the pride.

Giles whipped off his glasses, refusing to let Buffy make him feel ashamed, as if he'd done anything wrong. "Now, listen to me; you could have been anywhere in town and there was no time to go on a search mission. That young woman was terrified and she needed to be protected. I trusted my instincts and put my faith in Angel and Spike. Perhaps you should try it some time."

Buffy leaned back her head, feeling as if she'd been slapped in the face. "You could've been killed. You could've gotten Willow killed. Your excuses don't make it okay. I'm the Slayer here, not you."

Giles stepped over to her, officially pissed off now. "Yes, you are the Slayer, and I am your Watcher, not the other way around. I am also an adult and fully capable of taking care of myself and others. I had the choice between bringing Willow with me into a potentially dangerous situation, or sending her home, in the dark, after midnight. On her own. I stand by my decision."

But Buffy wasn't done. "Well, your decision was wrong. She has walked herself home for months and nothing happened, but bringing her with you to look for a Demon, that was just irresponsible." She gave as good as she got.

"Except you're wrong, Buffy, something happened. A Demon happened. And while it wasn't after her, she was in the vicinity and got involved. Where were you?"

"That's enough!" Willow cried out, looking at the two people locked in a heated stare, only inches apart. "Both of you, stop it! Yelling at each other isn't going to solve anything. We have a Demon to find. Buffy, Giles did what he did out of concern and protection, not to step on your toes. Giles, Buffy is upset because she was left out and we were all put in danger. Now, why don't you put your differences aside so we can get to the bottom of this?"

They both continued to glare at each other until the fog lifted and they realized that the redhead was right. Suddenly, they looked slightly ashamed and embarrassed. Xander, who'd been watching silently in the background, once more reminded himself never to get on his best friend's bad side.

Willow could be scary when she wanted to be.

He, too, was upset at being left out, but knew better than to speak those thoughts out loud. Besides, when it came right down to it, did he really_ want_ to be in danger? Maybe it had been better that he wasn't there, fumbling over his feet and words, and constantly needing protection.

The other three ignored his suddenly sullen disposition as they apologized to each other and got on with their plan. They would head to O'Hannigans again tonight and hope to get lucky, while Angel and Spike would stay with Nancy, for when Ronnie returned after sunset.

With the plans fully formed, the kids went off to class and Giles went back to work - Council work, as he was currently in the middle of translating a few prophecies he'd uncovered recently.

He had no idea, yet, that they were all about to come true.

Meanwhile, across town, Spike and Angel were unable to sleep, though for different reasons. Angel didn't have a bed, too kind to take his back from his Grandchilde. Spike, however, who was sitting on said bed, was keeping himself awake to avoid the nightmares.

Even if it meant dealing with the three haunting images.

Seeing Drusilla turn to dust, right in front of his eyes, blood, screams and cries on a dark street, beetles crawling under his skin; right now he would take all three of them simultaneously, over his dreams.

They were getting worse.

"It's really hitting you now, isn't it?" Angel asked, having correctly guessed Spike's mood.

The blond lifted his head. "Yeah, guess it is. Have to admit, didn't think it'd be like this."

Angel frowned. "How could you? It's not like I ever talked to you about it. I spent the first two years after the curse denying it had even happened. By the time I accepted it, I had left you all. One appearance in the forties doesn't count, especially since you thought I was still Angelus."

Spike shook his head. "Don't bloody well take on all the guilt, Gramps, not saying it was your fault. Just... didn't realize, is all. Didn't get it to sit here, moping. Was supposed to make a difference, and it has, but not in the way I thought."

Angel leaned forward; something about what Spike had said stirred something inside him. "You said you didn't get it for this. What does that mean? What happened to you?"

The blond sighed and leaned back against the wall, curling his legs up beneath him on the bed. "It's a long story, Peaches, you sure you're up for it?"

Angel nodded. "I'm sure, Spike. Something like this just doesn't happen and I know you; you were never as cruel as me, so I doubt this was a curse. So tell me, what happened?"

"Well," Spike said, beginning his tale. "As most stories go, it all started with a girl."

* * *

Joelle stood by the sink, hands deep in the soapy water as she tried to remove the stains of tonight's meal. Her mother had had one of her fits and was sleeping in her bedroom.

At least it gave her a few hours of peace.

She looked out beyond the kitchen window, where children were playing on the streets and teenagers were in huddles, whispers and gossip flying between them.

What she wouldn't give to be normal.

At fourteen, she had experienced more than her share of heartache and pain, and she knew it wasn't even close to over yet. She wondered, briefly, if her mother would even let her go when she turned eighteen.

Or if she was stuck in this prison until the day she died.

Then again, as she had often thought, she may not make it another four years.

It was the more than likely result.

She wanted to be one of those girls who hummed under their breath while they washed dishes. Who smiled at their mother, standing beside them, helping. Waved to their father as he walked up the walkway, coming home from a long day at work.

Normal. It was such a small thing to want for.

And yet so difficult to get.

Her eyes stung and she breathed deeply, knowing that her mother would have a fit if she caught her crying. Though she was usually out for two hours, Joelle wasn't taking any chances. She had learned that the hard way in the past.

As she scrubbed a particularly difficult bit of caked-on food from a plate, her eyes stared out at the setting sun in the distance. As far as she was concerned, it was the most beautiful sight in the world, and not only for the obvious reasons. For her, it meant the coming of night and the only true peace she had from Pamela.

Her mother slept like the dead and it gave Joelle the peace she so sought. The sunset brought with it the shadows that she had begun to call home; the ones she felt so safe wrapped within.

Others were frightened of the dark; she thrived in it.

The worst abuse she'd ever been subject to had been in the daylight hours, so it really came as no surprise. She looked at the darkening sky and let a rare and soft smile grace her lips.

Only minutes left and she would be on her way to safety.

Her mother would awaken in a few hours, take Joelle to the basement and they would say their nightly prayers. Then, Pamela would watch Reverend Thomas on TV for another hour, swallow a sleeping pill and be out until morning came.

And Joelle would taste freedom for one more night.

Only, what the girl didn't know, was that tonight wouldn't be like any other night.

And no other future night ever would be.

She was about to get her wish; she was about to be free.

But it would come at a terrible price.

* * *

"I mean, he just... didn't even seem to care," Zoe said, stirring her drink with the straw. "He just sat there, watching with wide eyes, as my father screamed at me. If he really loved me, shouldn't he protect me? Shouldn't he_ want_ to protect me?"

Anya lifted a hand up over her mouth to cover her yawn; she really wanted to roll her eyes. "Sounds like a real dirt-bag. Don't you just wish something bad would happen to him?"

"And there's the winning sentence we've been looking for," Buffy said, as she and the others walked over to the table. She turned to Nancy. "Is this the woman you were talking to the other night?"

"Yes, that's her."

Anya turned to the small group and felt a slight shiver go down her spine. Her Demon senses were tingling. The Slayer. And if she wasn't mistaken, two very powerful and very soulful Vampires.

"Crap," was her response, as she slumped down in her seat and turned away from Zoe.

"That's one way to put it," Buffy said, smiling cockily at the brunette Demon.

"What do you want? I'm trying to do my job here." Anya said, hardness in her voice.

"Yes, and that's exactly why we're here; your job." When the Demon frowned in a lack of understanding, Buffy rolled her eyes. "You turned this woman's ex into a huge, killer Demon who keeps coming after her. Are you dense or something?"

"Buffy," Giles warned, stepping forward to take over. It wouldn't do to offend the Demon when they wanted something from her. "Anyanka," he spoke, having finally found a reference to her earlier in the day. "My name is Rupert Giles and I have a proposition for you."

Anya smiled saucily and jumped off the stool, walking over to him. "Sorry, but you're a little too... human, for my liking," she smirked, as she walked around him, looking him up and down.

The three teenagers blushed and looked away, while Angel tried and Spike failed to hide a grin.

"That is not... Anyanka, will you quit! I am being very serious; that poor woman is in tremendous danger and you put her there. Now, I suggest you undo it, or you will be very sorry." Ripper said, surprising the children.

But not the Vampires.

Anya simply raised a brow and crossed her arms. "Sorry? What, are you gonna sick the Slayer on me?" She grinned, leaning her body sideways to look at Buffy who stood behind him. "I'm not as penetrable as a Vamp, buddy, so good luck with that."

Giles smiled and signaled Angel and Spike without anyone else realizing. "Are you saying you refuse my very generous deal?"

Anya rolled her eyes. "Okay, I'm just bored now. Yes, old man, that's exactly what I'm saying."

Before she knew what had happened, Angel came up behind her and held down her arms, while Spike grabbed her amulet and ripped it from around her neck. They came to stand between her and Giles as they handed the necklace to the Watcher.

"Give it back!" She growled, going into her own form of game face.

Giles swung it back and forth in his hand. "Undo the wish or I break it. I am a Watcher... I read. I know what will happen to you if someone destroys your power center."

"Don't you dare. If you break it, it won't undo it. I can promise you that, vile man."

The Watcher smiled. "Yes, I am very much aware that it only undoes your last wish and that your meeting with Nancy was days ago, but as I see it, it is a win-win situation. You either undo it yourself, or the world gets itself one less Vengeance Demon wreaking havoc. What is it going to be, Anyanka?"

She stared at him, realizing how much she hated it when men weren't afraid of her; and of these only one was. The male teenager hiding behind the Slayer and the redhead.

Pathetic.

Anya rolled her eyes and muttered profanities under her breath. "Fine, you bastard fiend, I'll undo the damn wish. Now give me back my amulet." She said, reaching out a hand, palm up.

Spike shook his head with a small smile, while Giles answered. "Not so fast, Anyanka. I need proof that Ronnie is back to normal. So here's what's going to happen."

* * *

Angel couldn't help but agree with Spike, as the two Vampires glared at the recently returned to human form Ronnie. The way he looked at his ex girlfriend made them remember their own pasts as soulless evil beings and they knew that there was one mistake with what they'd done.

Allowing Ronnie to be human again.

When Anyanka disappeared in a smoke of petulance, the Vampires walked the two humans home, while Giles and Buffy took Willow and Xander back to the library for a small celebration.

Spike and Angel growled under their breaths, engaged in a secret conversation about what to do with this most recent turn of events. When they'd come up with a satisfactory plan, Angel was surprised by the lack of interference from his soul.

And he remembered when this had happened in the past.

He wondered if it meant that he should not feel guilty for all the bad he did. After all, humans were allowed to make mistakes, to slip up, without it haunting their entire existence. He'd have to think on it more later, when he was back at the apartment.

For now, they had a job to do.

Nancy lived closest to O'Hannigans, and once they were sure she was inside her home, the Vampires surrounded Ronnie and made it very clear that he would do exactly as they asked. Buffy had let Nancy in on the secret to surviving in a town full of Vampires, but Ronnie had still been a Sluggoth and had no idea how to escape them.

Not when they made him pack a bag in his apartment, not when they basically walked him to the train station, and definitely not when they locked him in an empty cargo cart and threatened what would happen if he ever set foot back in Cleveland.

Or anywhere near his ex.

A job well done, the Vampires decided to borrow a page from the teenagers' book and go celebrate.

Twenty minutes later found them seated in a booth in a small Demon bar in town, each sipping on a glass of whiskey and adorned with small, secret smiles of satisfaction on their faces.

Angel hadn't felt this calm and carefree in a long time.

"How do you do it?" He asked his companion, after the waiter had dropped by with a refill.

Spike looked up and raised a brow. "Do what, mate?"

Angel sighed and leaned back in his seat. "A hundred years, Spike. That's how long it took me to truly feel the way I'm feeling right now and yet for you... It hasn't even been three. I'm not angry or jealous or anything, I just feel like I need to know."

It was Spike's turn to sigh. "Not sure, Gramps. Might be that I was never as bad a Vamp as you, even when I tried to be. Or that I kept some humanity on purpose, so I could care for Dru. And maybe it's the simple fact that you and I are not identical, regardless of what humans tell themselves."

"Or maybe that you fought for your soul. That you wanted it, even when you didn't have it." Angel said, in a neutral tone.

Spike shrugged. "Maybe that's it. Maybe not. Think it's one of those things that'll stay a mystery, Liam."

"I gotta ask this, it's been annoying me for over a hundred years." Spike smirked and waited. "What's with the nicknames? And not just for me... I think Dru is the only one I've ever heard you call by her name, even if it was only sometimes."

Spike appeared to be thinking about it before answering. "Another one with multiple possibilities. Maybe I enjoy annoying people," he grinned before continuing. "Or maybe I feel that their nicknames fit them better than their given ones. Don't tell me you want me calling you Angelus? But that's still who you are, and you know it."

Angel frowned and thought for a while. "What the hell does Peaches mean?"

Spike laughed and shook his head. "That one stays a mystery to you. But getting on with it, then. Sometimes I use titles as a way of showing respect, like calling your girl Slayer instead of her real name. It was the same with the other girls I've come across. Same goes for the Watcher, though I rarely respect any of those."

"I get that," Angel nodded in reply. "Okay, here's one for you; Darla. You never called her by her name, but not a nickname, either."

Spike raised a scarred brow. "You sure about that, Gramps?"

Angel's own brows furrowed and he thought about it. "What? You're saying that calling my Sire_ that old bitch_ is not your way of insulting her?" He said sarcastically.

"Just my way of showing affection," he grinned and took a gulp of the whiskey. "What about you? Always so bloody respectful and shite. Should loosen up once in a while, old man." He grinned, enjoying the spark of annoyance in the other Vampire's eyes.

And then a spark of interest. "Maybe you're right. I mean, having you around these last few days has been a different thing for me. Not necessarily bad, though. I'm not complimenting you, Spike, so stop smirking. It's just... I'm beginning to think that there's more to having a soul than just..."

"Brooding?" He finished for him and readily accepted the glare thrown his way.

"I don't brood. Much."

"Whatever you say, Gramps. Now it's my turn to ask a question; what the bloody hell did you think you would accomplish all these years of hiding in alleys and staying clear of humanity? Besides the obvious, of course."

Angel shook his head, lowering his eyes to his drink. "I'm guessing the obvious means trying to keep them safe from me?" He asked, continuing when Spike nodded. "Honestly, I'm not sure what the answer to that is. It seemed right at the time."

"Think about it, really. Why did it take being showed a young Slayer for you to man up, Liam?"

And Angel did what Spike asked; he thought about it. He thought about his years of solitude. He thought of meeting Whistler and traveling to Los Angeles. And he thought of sitting in the car with darkened windows, staring across the street at the girl on the steps, sucking on a lollipop.

It wasn't until he'd gone to Cleveland and started interacting with Buffy that he began to tell himself that he had fallen in love with her heart, that very day. But he knew that wasn't true; she had been a selfish, vain child at the time and shouldn't have grabbed the attention of someone like him.

And truthfully, she hadn't. The entire way back to the sewers where Whistler was waiting, he had thought long and hard about what was being asked of him. And only when stomping through the sludge and filth, feet away from the smelly Demon, had he come to a decision.

And it hadn't had anything to do with the young Slayer.

Whistler had been right; he wanted a purpose. He had just been too much of a coward to go looking for it, until it came to him in the form of a badly dressed Balance Demon and a fifteen-year-old, newly Chosen Slayer.

On the other side of the table Spike nodded, guessing where his Grandsire's thoughts had wandered, and knew he had done his job. His question wasn't meant out of curiosity, but with the knowledge that Angel needed to make a few realizations before he continued the way he was going.

All he needed to do now, was ensure that Angel truly considered the reasons for his so-called feelings for Buffy Summers. Spike didn't doubt the possibility that those feelings might be real, but that didn't mean that the both of them didn't deserve to find out for sure.

Some girls liked the mystery and that may be the same in this case.

Better to know now than later, when things could truly go wrong.

For everyone involved.

* * *

The clock struck nine and Pamela Savidge pressed the power button on the TV and rose from her chair; it was time for bed.

"Joelle, darling, we are turning in now. Have you finished your chores?"

The girl stepped inside the kitchen from her room and met her mother halfway. "Yes, mother, I did it all while you were praising the Lord with the Reverend," as every night, she finished in her head.

"Very good, time to say goodnight, then," Pamela replied, turning her daughter around and walking with her to her bedroom. "I will see you in the morning, sharp and early, for our before-school prayers. May the Lord bless you in your dreams, my dear," she said, waiting for Joelle to close her door.

"May the Lord bless you as well, mother," she replied, soon after hearing the click of the door.

Followed by Pamela shutting the padlock down and locking her daughter in.

Joelle turned to face her room, staring at the bars on the windows and sighing. As free as she always felt in this space, at this time of the day, it wasn't anything compared to what others had.

Perhaps not even compared to prison cellmates.

But it was enough for her.

She turned on the lamp by her bed and grabbed the book she was currently in the middle of reading, sitting cross-legged on the madras. Nine was far too early for bedtime, when she had to get up at seven, but she let her mother believe that she was falling asleep at the same time as her, more out of fear than protection or respect.

But she was just never tired until midnight came.

She saw the irony in feeling safest when the veil between two realities was at its thinnest. When the monsters were supposed to come out and prey on the innocent.

Living with a monster made fearing the make-believe ones a moot point.

Joelle flipped open the book to the page where she'd last left off and began to read, quickly getting lost in the story. She had never been one for sappy romance novels, instead choosing to lose herself in the excitement and thrill of a good mystery, supernatural or not.

At the moment she was reading_ Dreamcatcher_ by Stephen King.

So lost in the words on the page, it took her a while to realize that there was a noise coming from outside of her room. She let the book fall to the bed, lifting her head to listen; it seemed to be originating from beyond her locked door.

The kitchen.

But her mother was never awake at this hour, not with the strength of the sleeping pill she swallowed each night. Who else could it be?

She heard the squeak of shoes on the wooden floor and realized that the sound was moving closer and closer to where she was. Sure that it could only be Pamela, she waited to hear the key turn in the lock that indicated that she was coming in, all the while curious and afraid of why this was happening.

But that sound never came. Instead, the door suddenly burst into the room, removed from its hinges with one, powerful kick to its middle. And in the doorway, glowing in the shadows of the night, stood a mysterious figure dressed in a black robe.

With an x carved over each eye.

Joelle screamed and jumped off the bed, pushing herself into a corner of the room, just beside the small bed table. Only the lamp to her left was on, but she could see the stranger clearly. Along with what he was holding in one of his hands.

She knew that even if her screams could wake up her practically comatose mother, it would do no good; no one could save her now.

And then the stranger fell to the ground, face first, a sword sticking out of his back. Another body took up the doorway now and Joelle wasn't sure if she should feel safe now, or even more scared.

This one was decidedly human, or so he appeared, and was slowly walking towards her, hands raised and palms out. She realized that he was deliberately trying not to scare her and chose to put her limited trust in the hands of the one who had saved her from a curved knife through the heart.

She stopped cowering into the wall and tried to relax her strained limbs, attempting to show him that not only was she okay, but that she wasn't fearing him with as much intensity as a few seconds ago.

And then he spoke.

"Ms. Savidge," he said, kneeling just a few feet away from her. "There is no need to be afraid, not of me. I came as soon as I knew you were in danger. This is going to sound strange and, perhaps, frightening, but I need you to come with me. It's not safe for you here anymore."

She ignored the fact that it had never been safe for her in this house and nodded, prepared to do anything to leave. This was what she had been wishing for, for so many years. Even if he turned out to be less than what he seemed, anything would be better than here. Right?

"Okay," she said, surprising him with her easy acceptance.

"Alright, then," he replied, not willing to question her, should she change her mind. "My car is waiting out front, please. There is no telling how many more of these that may be on their way," he finished, gesturing to the dead stranger on the floor.

Joelle rose from the floor and calmly stepped to the closet, pulling out the bag she had packed years ago when she was trying to get up the courage to run away. The man didn't ask her anything, though she could see the curiosity in his eyes.

"All set?" He asked and she nodded. "Let's go, then."

When Joelle passed the threshold of the bedroom, she noticed the open door to the room where her mother slept. With one fleeting look at the stranger, she peered inside and swallowed deeply.

It looked like Pamela Savidge had gotten what she deserved.

Without a second look, Joelle turned back around and walked, head held high, towards the front door. Once again, the man did not question her reaction and she was glad. She wasn't sure how to tell the story right now or if she would ever truly want to.

If this really was a fresh start, then she would become another person.

Someone who didn't have years of abuse written on her mental and emotional piece of baggage.

But as her and the stranger got into a simple, small car, she couldn't help herself from asking a question. "Who or what was that?" Her curiosity told her that knowing who saved her from her mother was important.

"They are called Harbingers, or Bringers. Whether they're human or not, no one knows, but deadly they certainly are," he answered, not once trying to spare her the whole truth.

She was very grateful for that.

As the engine turned on and they pulled away from the curb, she asked another question. "Where are we going?" She turned to him, staring.

His mouth twitched up in a half-smile as he changed gears. "Somewhere safe."

Realizing he wouldn't answer, she switched subject. "And who are you."

"I am the one that rescued you, correct?" He waited for her grateful nod. "Although, if you need it, you can call me Wes."

They turned the corner of the street and were gone.

Never to return.


	5. Chapter Five

_Sometimes we are not aware of what we are capable of until it crashes down on us like a lightning bolt from the sky_

* * *

Willow walked down the long hallway of the school, trying not to get too lost in her own thoughts lest she crash into someone unforgiving. Spotting Queen C and her Cordettes a few doors down, she sighed and resolved to wait until class to think about all that had happened in the last few weeks.

Five minutes later found her seated in History waiting for the new teacher to arrive.

The last one had died three days ago; barbecue fork to the neck was the official story.

The redhead went over all of the events that had gone on lately, from the arrival of another souled Vampire to the panic and slight excitement of a Vengeance Demon granting a dangerous wish. Even the strange dreams that Buffy was having were currently haunting her mind.

Life had never once been dull since befriending the Slayer.

Since the night she and Giles had approached Spike and Angel for help with the Sluggoth, her opinion of the bleached Vampire had slowly begun to change, although she was still a bit wary now, for obvious reasons.

But she saw something in Spike that Angel didn't show; as she had considered before, he was more open, and thus appeared much more trustworthy than his elder. It left her with no doubt that, though she wasn't trusting him completely yet, it would certainly happen sooner with him than Angel.

If it ever happened with the brunette Vampire, she couldn't help but think.

Willow thought of Anyanka and what she was up to now. Was she still in town, searching for a way to get revenge on them for what they had done to her? Or had she left for greener pastures and cities without meddling Slayers, Vampires and Watchers?

Either way, Willow hoped she never came across her again; Anyanka scared her in a way other monsters never truly had. Perhaps because of how human she both looked and appeared. Maybe because of her lack of remorse at what she was doing. Or it could be the amazing power she wielded.

To change the world with just two words was something unheard of in the redhead's world... until she had read up on the Demon as Giles had requested.

Her mind then twisted to her friend's troubles as of late; the disturbing dreams. Giles had, as Buffy had predicted, simply deduced that they were dreams of previous Slayers, but the Slayer wasn't so sure. And honestly, neither was Willow.

After all, Buffy had been Chosen for over a year, so why were they returning now, when she hadn't had them since the first few months of being the Slayer?

The dots didn't connect properly.

Willow sighed, resting her chin on her hand and wishing, not for the first time, to be able to truly help Buffy. In more ways than hacking. She now knew better than to utter a wish out loud, but it didn't keep her from making it.

To be powerful enough to stand beside her friend, instead of behind.

She knew that Xander wished for the same thing, but wasn't completely sure of his reasoning; whether it was wanting to become more attractive in the Slayer's eyes or a genuine sense of wanting to make a difference in this world they now lived in.

The answer would show itself someday soon, she was sure.

As she sat there, praying for a change to come, to make her more useful, the classroom door opened and a new face stepped in. There was a kind smile on his face, as he put down his briefcase and addressed the students.

And yet Willow felt a sense of trepidation emanating from his presence.

"Good morning class and welcome to History. My name is Robin Wood and I'll be your teacher from now on."

* * *

The ding of the microwave sounded and Angel turned away from the coffee maker Spike had convinced him to get, to pull out the blood bags and two mugs. Once the empty bags were in the trash and the cups on a tray, he walked into the living room and set it down on the table.

Spike nodded his thanks and grabbed one mug, sitting up on the cot. Angel had finally gotten his bed back, but Spike wasn't quite ready yet, to be on his own. As much as he hated to admit that.

He pretended that he was still here for Angel's sake, though they both knew the truth.

"Any news from the Watcher?" Spike asked, once they were both comfortable. Giles had called for Angel's presence earlier in the day and the Vampire had taken to the tunnels to make the meeting.

"He wanted to inform me of the Council; apparently they've been unusually silent lately and he's worried about what that might mean. He also wanted to let me know that he'd gotten a phone call from a coven in Devonshire. It seems that a power is building on the Hellmouth, they're just not sure what it is yet."

"From beneath you, it devours," Spike mumbled, brought back to his months spent in the school basement.

Angel nodded. "Yeah, I mentioned that to Giles, though Buffy already had. He's been researching it ever since. Hasn't found anything yet, though."

"So what do you think? 'Bout the Council, I mean," Spike asked, purposely changing the subject.

Angel let him. "Whatever they're up to, I don't think it directly involves Buffy, but I'm not sure. We'll just have to keep our eyes open, I guess, and keep up a steady network with the Demons around here. Any news and he'll be the first to know, I'm sure."

"You're probably right. What did Rupes have to say about all of this?"

"He was worried, of course, but not as much as I feared, thankfully. He seemed distracted though. Something about strange reports from the few Watchers that_ have_ been keeping in touch with him. Something happening with the Potentials, is what I gathered."

"Sure it's just a matter of time before we learn what's going on," Spike said, falling surprisingly easily into the role of worrying about innocents that he had never met before.

Almost as if he was meant to have a soul.

He didn't like thinking of that, though; not just because he had recently been happy being evil, but also because he didn't like having his choices taken away from him. If such a thing as the Fates truly did exist, which was probable in their world, he didn't want them messing with him just because of some path he was supposed to be on.

He was his own Demon, dammit, and nothing would change that.

He would soon learn just how wrong that was.

* * *

Kimberly looked up from her magazine at the sound of a honk and smiled when she spotted her mother's car. She ran down the steps of her school and got into the passenger seat, reaching out to hug her mom before they drove off.

"So, where are you taking me today?" She smiled, always happy to spend time with her only parent.

"I thought we'd go to the mall and check out the new store that just opened. What do you say to that?" Allison replied, smiling just as brightly.

"Sounds great. How was work?"

Allison shrugged as she stopped at a red light. "Nothing unusual, as usual," she laughed, turning to look at her daughter. "Kirby finally got up the nerve to request a raise, though I won't know what the boss' response was until tomorrow. And Sarah and I had lunch at that new bistro just a few blocks from the office. They have a great salad. I thought I'd take you there next week, when we have that doctor's appointment?"

"Cool," Kimberly replied, when her cell pinged with a new message. "Oh, mom, Joanie just asked if she could come over later and spend the night; apparently her folks are going out of town and she doesn't wanna be alone. Can she?"

"Of course," Allison grinned. "She's always welcome, you know that. Now, what do you think we should have for dinner, then?"

The two women continued a constant stream of conversation as they moved from store to store, unaware that they were being watched. But then, they never saw beyond the bubble that was the two of them; a mother and daughter closer than most in the world.

That would all change soon, as the two would be forced apart.

_They_ were coming.

* * *

She could feel the summons deep in her bones, long before the sensation of being pulled in several directions took over and the pain forced her to black out, if only for a moment.

Next thing she knew, she was standing in a bright room, facing three ethereal beings. The only familiar face wasthe one beside her, not looking at her.

"Hoffy?" She asked, unsure of herself and what exactly was going on.

"Anyanka," he simply replied, not once turning in her direction.

Before she could speak any further, a deep voice broke the uncomfortable silence and it came from the hooded creature in the middle.

"You have gone by many names over the years, Demon, what do you wish to be called here today?"

Her brows furrowed and she felt like screaming, but decades of experience told her that these were the last people she wanted to piss off. So she answered. "It's Anya these days."

"Very well, Anya it is. Your Lord has brought it to my attention that you were recently given an ultimatum by the Champions for Good. Tell us what happened."

The Demoness recalled the incident the previous week and began to paint a very one-sided picture of the Watcher and his Vampires. Though she purposely made herself out to be the victim, these beings were not fools and simply read between the lines.

When she was done, the one in the middle, the speaker of the three she realized, nodded his head and replied. "Understood. Now, we are here to give you a choice as well. Lord D'Hoffryn wanted to simply strip you of your powers as punishment for your crimes, but we contacted him with these choices instead."

Now Anya was afraid to look at her boss. "What are the choices?" Her voice shook as she spoke.

All she'd ever known was what she was: a Vengeance Demon. She couldn't imagine losing that. She was sure she'd do anything to stay what she was, but without knowing what the other choices were...

"You can become fully human, to age and die as a mortal and never involve yourself in the Demonic world again." This choice made the Lord smile and Anya told herself to pick anything but this. Until she heard it. "Or you can become a true Justice Demon and your first task will be to assist the current Slayer in the apocalypse she is about to face. You would no longer answer to Lord D'Hoffryn, but to me and my brethren."

But before she could make the choice, she had one more question to ask. "And who are you?"

"We go by many names, though I suppose we are best known as the Powers That Be."

* * *

She threw her book bag down on the brightly colored bedspread and started removing whatever she would need for her homework. Taking a seat at the desk and powering up the computer, she cracked her back, turned on the desk light and started in on her History paper.

Which just led her to thoughts about her new History teacher.

He had been nothing but kind, intelligent, open to opposite views and not the least bit strict, but Willow still got a strange feeling off of him. She couldn't explain it and wondered if it was paranoia or something that came from the bit of experience she had helping Buffy these past many months.

Whatever it was, she knew she would keep an eye on him just in case.

Three hours passed and Willow had finished her History paper and her math homework, before getting started on her computer science, her favorite class ever since Ms. Calendar took over. Thus she was done pretty quickly.

She was supposed to meet up with the guys later, at the closest teen club, to try and relax and forget about everything that had been happening in town lately. Buffy wanted to get past the horrible dreams and the haunting of the victims she didn't manage to save and Xander and Willow would help by simply being there.

But the redhead was unsure of how she was supposed to help.

Everything had been building up lately, her need to be important to her best friend, to not just be another Xander. To make a difference in the world as more than just the girl by the computer. To not have to worry Buffy whenever she was out alone after dark.

It bubbled up inside of her and her fingers hovered over the keys, shaking with intensity. She blinked her eyes over and over again as her spine tingled and her hair hurt.

She didn't know exactly what was happening, but it couldn't be good.

Worried that she might have caught some Hellmouth-y disease, she quickly clocked out, shut down her laptop and grabbed her coat, feeling worse and worse as the minutes passed.

She couldn't even focus her thoughts, swirling around in her head as they were, as she raced down the street toward the popular night club that suddenly seemed to be on the other side of the country.

Things didn't improve when she arrived at her destination.

"Buffy? Xander? Come on, don't joke around with me, something is seriously wrong!" She cried out over the noise of the band playing, but her friends continued to ignore her.

They just stared out at the stage, sipping on their drinks.

Willow felt like screaming...until Xander spoke.

"Will said she was coming, right?" He said, completely serious.

And this was a boy who didn't know how to properly lie.

"Oh, god," the redhead whispered, staring in horror at her two best friends.

They couldn't see or hear her.

Crap.

* * *

She wasn't sure how she felt about this new change to her life. It had been so long since she hadn't been able to control her own comings and goings and now she was being forced to do something she really didn't want to.

Well, they_ had_ given her a choice, but there was no way she was choosing humanity, in any scenario.

Anyanka walked down the dark streets of the Hellmouth, wondering what she had done to deserve this. Okay, yeah, so she had eviscerated a good number of men over the past thousand-plus years, but that was her job. That's what she was_ supposed_ to do, dammit.

So why was she being punished for it?

She growled under her breath, cursing the Vampires and the Watcher that had been responsible for this change of events. And now she was supposed to_ help_ them?

Just great.

Her not-so-silent muttering continued for miles as she made her way through town and towards the high school. She knew it was only a matter of time before those damned Powers saw that she wasn't doing as told, and she was sure they were the best at doling out punishments.

You didn't become the all-knowing entities that they were for nothing.

She clutched what few belongings she had in her hand as she stood before the large building at the east of town. Gazing up and down the structure, she rolled her eyes and once again wondered what she had done to piss of fate that they would put her on this particular path.

But she had no choice.

A few minutes later found her in the library, calling out for the Watcher who was nowhere to be found. That annoying Brit was supposed to be here at all times, wasn't that the point of a librarian, anyway?

"Hello!" She practically screamed out, stomping her foot in annoyance.

The sound of something dropping on the floor echoed from somewhere behind the Demoness and she turned around, but there was nothing there. She sighed and pushed back through the revolving doors, out into the hallways of the school.

"Is anyone there?" She whispered into the darkness, not so much afraid as cautious.

She had heard rumors of what was bubbling near the surface of the Hellmouth...which was right around where she was currently standing, after all.

As silent as a mouse, she made her way down through the halls, passing classroom after classroom, trying to identify the strange noise.

She didn't hit the jackpot until she reached the Computer Science room.

One look inside told her that she definitely wasn't alone anymore. One of the numerous computer screens were bright and harsh against the darkness of the room, but the Demoness couldn't see who was operating it. She just hoped it wasn't a ghost; those things freaked her out almost as much as those horrid bunnies.

She shivered at the thought.

Stepping deeper into the room she decided not to call out, just in case. It wasn't that she couldn't teleport herself out of there in an instant, if needed, but Anyanka had not lived as long as she had by not being extra cautious.

She could hear a low humming and she was surprised to find that she was only noticing it now. Her eyes glanced all around the room, from the large windows, to the two doors on either side, to the blackboard at the far end from her, but there was no other sign of life beyond the computer ahead of her.

Once she got close enough, however, she saw the flash of red.

It was that shy girl who had been hanging out with the Vampires, Watcher and Slayer the other night at the Bronze.

"Oh, it's just you," she muttered, though loud enough for the girl to hear her.

Willow jumped in her seat and turned to the voice. It was the Vengeance Demon. She rose from her seat and rushed to Anya's side, not even bothering to be afraid. "You can see me!" She cried out in relief, barely keeping herself from grabbing the other woman up in a hug.

Anyanka's brows furrowed. "Well, of course, you silly human. Why shouldn't I be able to see you?"

The redhead's face fell in memory. "I went to the Bronze and my friends had no idea I was there, even standing right in front of them." She turned back around and only now did Anya see what she was doing.

Researching invisibility.

The Demoness chewed on her bottom lip as the words of the Power echoed through her mind._ Your new task is to assist the Slayer and her comrades in anything that is thrown into their path_.

_Criminy_, she thought, realizing what that meant.

She rolled her eyes before speaking. "Why don't I help you? Since we now know it isn't invisibility, we should go to the library. I'm sure the Watcher keeps some books on stuff like this there." She turned and made her way back to the doorway she came from.

Willow's eyes widened in shock. "You're helping me?"

Anya was suddenly annoyed; she had been hoping to put off all explanations...for as long as possible. "Come on, let's get to the library," she replied, walking back to grab the redhead's arm, less harshly than she wanted to deep down. "I'll explain on the way."

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

The bus drove into the large parking lot of the main station and loudly opened its doors. Only a handful of people got out, making their way towards the bright lights of the inside station; except for one.

Dawn lit up a cigarette and hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder. She had finally made it here, after almost a full week of traveling. She hated how long it took to get around when you didn't have a driver's license or a terribly large amount of cash on hand.

She rolled her eyes and started moving out. No idea where she was actually going, she decided simply to get a lay of the land before settling down for the night.

While she may have been aware that this was home of the Hellmouth, the young girl didn't have a clue that the Slayer was settled in here...or that she would find a familiar face amongst the citizens of Cleveland.

Dawn moved down the dark streets, passing under light poles every now and then, in her journey to take stock of the big city. She had traveled many cities and towns over the course of her young life, but she could almost_ feel_ just how different this place was.

And not just because everyone seemed utterly ignorant of the dangers that lay beneath them.

_Idiots._

She saw people out walking their dogs, going on dates in the movie theater, or sipping on coffee on the outside tables of the many establishments. Completely ignorant to the Vampires that hid in the shadows. Or even, she thought as something caught her eye, the almost seven foot Demon walking casually down the main streets.

Dawn rolled her eyes and kept going; she knew that that species was benign and left it be.

She had a crumpled up piece of paper in her pants pocket that held the addresses of the only three motels in the city that she could afford, and she knew it was almost time to pull it out. But first things first, she thought, as she passed by a grocery shop.

Her stomach growled back in appreciation.

The powerful contents of the small box in her bag felt heavy in her mind as she walked into a place that held far too many people for her likings. She needed to just get in and out.

Her carry-on was far too precious at the moment.

And she'd strike down anyone that got in her way.

* * *

Kimberly looked away from her homework when her phone pinged. Joanie was texting to say she was on her way and the redhead smiled, calling out to her mother with the news.

She returned to her math and put the phone back down, humming slightly under her breath as she worked through equation after equation. By the time her friend arrived she knew that dinner would be on the table, ready for them to dig in; her mother always had the best timing.

Out in the living room of the small home sat Allison and Robert Sherb, casually watching the news as the food cooked in the next room. Every now and then, Allison would rise from her seat and check on it, but it needed no more supervision than that.

She also listened for the knock on the door she was expecting.

The atmosphere of the Sherb home was as relaxed as ever; this was what people would call a true family.

In Allison's mind, the only thing missing were more children. Unfortunately, Kimberly's birth had been so damaging to her body that she was never able to have any other children. It was something she still carried with her, and it just may have been partly responsible for the close-knit bond she had since build with her only daughter.

Robert looked over at his wife and, recognizing the look in her eyes, decided to distract her by talking about his day. He was a stockbroker working at a local company, and he told her a story of the business meeting he'd had that day while he waited for the bright light to return to her eyes.

In the meantime, heavy footsteps walked up the path to the front door, gloved hands coming out of jacket pockets to knock on the door.

Allison smiled at her husband as she got up from the couch and walked through the kitchen to go let Joanie in. She thought the girl had gotten here pretty quick, but knew that the cold often made a person move faster. She mentally shivered as she opened the door.

To an unfamiliar face.

"Hello," the younger man said, a kind smile on his face. "My name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and I know how this is going to sound."

Half an hour later there was chaos and panic within the Sherb house.

"Remember to pack some warm clothes, honey, just in case," Allison said, fidgeting on her feet while she watched her daughter throw things into a suitcase.

"I know, mom, I'm going to Cleveland, I'm aware," Kimberly replied, trying to keep the tremor from showing in her voice.

Allison sighed and wrapped her sweater closer around her. "Oh, sweetheart, I know, I just worry. This is the first time you're gonna be away from us for any length of time and...it's going to be so dangerous."

She understood where Mr. Wyndam-Pryce was coming from, truly she did; Kimmy would be safer, surrounded by able-bodied fighters, than she would here in this small town, with her normal parents. That didn't mean she had to like the fact that she was practically sending her daughter into the lion's den.

As she worried and fussed over her child, the living room now held two men, locked in a heated discussion.

Robert was making sure that the Watcher would keep his daughter safe.

"Tell me about these beings you mentioned," he spoke, as they sat facing each other across the coffee table.

Wesley sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "They are officially known as Harbingers, but are also called Bringers. They are agents for an ancient evil known simply as the First. Their job is to eradicate the Watchers and Potential Slayers of the world, before they make their way to the current Slayer. Kimberly will be put under that Slayer's protection as soon as we make it to Cleveland."

Robert was silently grateful for answers to questions he hadn't even asked. "And when will you get there?"

"There are more girls for me to pick up on the way, but it shouldn't be more than a month, two at the most. In the meantime, I will do everything in my power to keep them safe."

"And just what kind of power is that?" The father demanded.

The Watcher sighed again and looked into the steely eyes of Mr. Sherb. "I am trained in both combat and magic, sir. I assure you, Kimberly couldn't be safer than in my care, out of all of the Watchers from the Council."

He neglected to mention that he hadn't actually been a Watcher in years and, actually, didn't even graduate from the academy. None of that information made him any less qualified for the job and would only serve to worry the poor man even more than he already was.

Wes bit his tongue to keep it back.

Robert nodded slowly. "Alright, I suppose I have no other choice than to put my faith in you. But you better be willing to take a bullet for that girl, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, or she's not going anywhere."

The younger man leaned forward and put hard eyes on the parent. "Every single enemy will have to go through me first to get to any of the girls. You have my word."

And with that, the conversation was paused for two reasons. First, because Robert had yet to come up with any more questions. And second, because an unfamiliar face peeked her head inside the open front door.

"Are we on schedule, Wes?" Joelle asked, though her eyes were trained on Mr. Sherb.

"Just about. Why don't you come into the warmth and maybe you can help Kimberly pack up her things?" He stepped forward and introduced the two other people in the room to each other. "Mr. Sherb, this is Joelle Savidge. She's the first girl I got out. Joelle, this is Kimberly's father, Robert Sherb."

They shook hands in the awkwardness of the situation, before the father pointed his daughter's room out to the younger girl. She quietly made her way through, passing Allison on the way there. She had only been with Wes for a week, but was already finding herself more relaxed now that she had been released from Hell.

She was the perfect person to welcome Kimberly to the band wagon, in her own opinion.

Even if their home lives couldn't have been more different.

Another ten minutes passed before everyone was ready to go. The Sherbs were given a phone number where Wes could be reached, and he and Joelle stood by the car as they waited for the three family members to get through their teary and emotional goodbye.

Wesley had given one of his shotguns to Robert, just in case whatever magic made the Bringers track down Potentials happened to be a few hours off. He wanted to make sure Kimberly had a family to come home to, after all.

With the final farewells over and done with, the two girls got into the back seat, while the Watcher started up the car and drove away from the small suburban home.

On the road to what he prayed would be safety.

And freedom.

But it was a good thing that the man was such a cautious person to begin with, because it meant that the surprise was something he was prepared for, when half an hour after leaving the Sherbs neighborhood, the trio were setupon by a group of Harbingers.

"You girls get down behind the seats and grab a weapon. I'm gonna take care of this, but if any of them get too close to you, do what you have to, okay?" He waited for their frightened nods before slamming the brakes and quickly exiting the vehicle.

In a move that would have seemed practiced to anyone watching, Wesley carved two Bringers in half before the car door had even shut behind him. He pulled two automatics out from inside his inner coat pockets and put a bullet between the eyes of each Bringer that came close enough in this darkness.

Unfortunately, there were still three left when the clips were emptied and he threw the guns to the ground to pick up when he was the only one standing again. From behind his back, he brought out a heavy cleaver and positioned it in both hands.

"Alright, then," he spoke, a grin on his face. "Time to get some exercise."

Joelle and Kimberly watched from the car, heads peeking slightly over the edge of the window to the left. They stared at each other in shock and glee at the sight of just how thorough and talented their appointed protector was.

But suddenly they were too busy to watch as a yet unseen Bringer had snuck up on the other side of the car and was throwing open the right side door. Kimberly cried out when she felt a hand on her foot, attempting to pull her from the large vehicle.

She reached inside to find something she didn't even know was there; strength and courage. Keeping a tight hold on the dagger in her hand, she turned abruptly and swung the blade deep inside the Bringer's gut. There was no cry of pain, but it did bend over slightly in what appeared to be agony.

Except that it just came coming.

Joelle could only stare from her seat, too frozen to be of any help. And then, just when she thought the redhead was done for, the Harbinger seemed to freeze...and then fall to the ground.

The large cleaver sticking out of its back.

Wesley stood behind it, breathing slightly heavily, hands on his hips. "Good job, Kimberly. I'm gonna go get my abandoned weapons and then we'll get back on the road."

The girls stared at him, both thinking the exact same thing about their protector.

_Cool as a cucumber._

Huh.


	6. Chapter Six

With a rough tug, he removed his glasses and pulled out the handkerchief from his breast pocket. Staring at the part of the room where he was told Willow was currently standing didn't make him feel the least bit better.

He was trusting a Vengeance Demon, after all.

"And you say only you can see her?" Giles asked the Demoness.

Anya rolled her eyes. "That's what I said, isn't it? Are you slow or something?"

His eyes flashed, but he pushed down the anger. "I am just trying to establish exactly what is happening, so that I can figure out what it is. And you are not the most trustworthy voice, Anyanka."

She snorted. "Fine, why don't we just get it over with. Ask me something only you and Willow would know and then we can start the research."

Giles stared at the seemingly young woman in front of him, placing his glasses back on the end of his nose and looking over them. She did have a point, and he dug deep down, trying to think of something he knew that only Willow would know. While he could wait until Xander and Buffy arrived, he wasn't interested in wasting time.

Being a Saturday, there was no saying when they would show themselves.

And then it suddenly came to him. "What is Willow afraid of?"

Anya turned her head and appeared to be staring at pure air, waiting for an answer. "Seriously?" She snorted, rolling her eyes and turning back to the Watcher. "She says she has frog fear. Lame," she mumbled the last part under her breath.

Unaware of how similar their reactions would be, were they to learn of her own fears.

Giles was as convinced as he was going to be. "Very well, let's get started." He turned around, but stopped halfway. "Of course, I don't have the slightest idea where to begin. If you can see her, that rules out invisibility. Then again, perhaps it is your Demonic origins that leave her visible to you." He went into the back office with plans to call Angel and get him to take the sewers to school to test his theory.

That turned out to be unnecessary as he heard a female voice belonging to Cordelia Chase from the outer rooms. "Hi, Willow, who's your friend?" She said, in the most snide tone she could get away with.

The Watcher rushed back out into the room and stared at the cheerleader. "My Lord, Ms. Chase, are you saying you can see Willow right now?"

Cordelia's reaction was similar to Anya's own the previous night. "Of course, what are you talking about? Are you guys playing some kind of prank on me?" She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "She's standing right there, Giles." She said, eyes indicating a spot just to the left of Anya.

He once more ripped off his glasses and wondered at this strange conundrum. "Then I suppose we can rule out what I mentioned before, Anyanka," he spoke, chewing on one end of his spectacles.

"Willow wants to know what else it can be, then," the Demoness boringly replied.

Cordelia was very confused. "Okay, exactly_ what_ is going on here, Giles?" She spoke, worried.

While not willing to abandon her posse and join the dweebs, she had spent enough time around them, being_ rescued_ by them, to know when to be serious. This definitely seemed to be one of those moments.

"If you're willing to help out, you can stay and get the explanation. If not, tell me why you're here and then get out," Giles told her, letting a bit of Ripper bleed through.

He didn't have time for her drama right now.

Her eyes widened and she stared at him in shock. When she finally spoke, there was nothing in her voice that said she was being mean or sarcastic. "Sure, I'll stay. I don't have any plans today, anyway. Where do you want me?"

The two women and one Watcher walked over to the table and began discussing where to start. In the corner by the book cage, the half invisible redhead looked on, wondering what was going to happen to her.

And if they would ever figure out what was wrong with her.

* * *

Buffy busied herself with her breakfast, though her mother would call it lunch if she saw the time, while she wondered what had kept Willow from showing up at the club the previous night. She had tried calling her best friend's house when the Slayer woke up that morning, but there had been no reply.

With everything that had been happening lately, she was worried.

And it didn't exactly help that she'd had another dream that night. Though this one had been different than the others, that much she was sure of. Which was why she was swallowing the food down in record time, so she could get to the library and discuss it with her Watcher.

Xander's job was going to the Rosenberg home to find out what had happened to their redheaded friend.

She practically threw her dirty dish in the sink, splashed some water on it, and almost choked on her last sip of juice before running for the front hall, grabbing her summer coat and locking the door behind her.

She made it to the high school in record time.

Walking in on a panic she definitely hadn't been expecting.

"What's going on here?" She asked, hands on her hips and a determined look plastered on her face.

Cordelia and an unfamiliar girl sat at the table in the main space of the library, while Giles paced near the office door, eyes fastened on the book he was carrying. The girls were arguing over something and the tabletop could barely be seen for all the open tomes that lay on it.

The Slayer was confused.

"Ah, Buffy," Giles spoke as he noticed her presence, "you're here. I was wondering when you would arrive. You don't have Xander with you?" His brows furrowed.

She frowned. "No, I sent him to Willow's house to look for her. She didn't show up at the club last night and we were worried." Then she seemed to realize something. "Why didn't you ask about her?"

Cordelia spoke up from her spot. "Y'know, even after two hours here, it's still weird to be reminded that only Anyanka and I can see her."

The blonde jumped, only catching the last part of the sentence. "That's Anyanka?" She said, pointing to the unfamiliar face at the table. "The Demon who turned a man into a giant worm? Why aren't you with the slaying, Giles...and why is she...hanging out?" Buffy said, managing to confuse even herself with her fractured sentence.

The Brit sighed and stepped closer to his charge. "Why don't you have a seat and I will explain everything. Starting with why Willow didn't show up last night."

Buffy was in for quite a shock...and she didn't even know it.

* * *

Angel walked down the dark streets of the city, trying to blend into the crowd that surrounded him.

He had some very important brooding to do.

After his conversation with Spike, all he could do was think. About so many things. His own past, especially when mirrored up against what his once-annoying Grandchilde had done recently. How different the two of them were, even with everything they had been through together.

Where he went from here.

He may have finally come to the conclusion that his feelings for Buffy didn't begin until he came here to assist her in her battles, but that didn't mean that he didn't now love her, very much.

He wanted to be everything he possibly could be, for her.

Angel was no fool and, even if he was, Spike had pointed out a very important fact for the older Vampire: his soul was a curse.

And curses were made to be broken.

He couldn't let that happen. He_ wouldn't_ let that happen. No matter what it took, he would find a way to secure his soul so that he and Buffy could be together.

And the question wasn't how he was going to do this. The question was how was he going to tell Buffy that he would be leaving town for an unknown amount of time.

That's what was bothering him lately.

He'd tried everything he could do to deal with this dilemma. He and Spike had spent most of the past many days engaged in heavy conversation, in a way that they never did in the past. That they never_ could_, thanks to the rivalry that he was to blame for.

Now they seemed to have found some common ground, even beyond the fact that they both had souls.

That had just calmed them down long enough to get to know one another.

No, Angel had realized some things about his once least favorite family member; Spike was incredibly insightful, intelligent, observant and logical. It almost blew his mind to suddenly see these things as clear as day.

How had he not noticed them before?

Was he really that blind? That self-absorbed?

Apparently so.

But not anymore. It was time to think of someone other than himself; to think of his love, Buffy. She needed to be with something that she could_ be_ with, someone who could show her exactly how much they adored her, in every way.

And he couldn't do that until he was absolutely sure that he wouldn't release the monster that lived inside of him.

But first he had to do what Spike had encouraged him to do: discuss it with the Slayer.

This would be one decision that he would not leave her out of.

As Spike had put it, "That'd be bloody unfair, Peaches."

And, for once, Angel could admit it when the younger Vampire was right.

Which is how he found himself turning directions...and heading for the first cemetery of the night.

In search of the Slayer.

* * *

"I don't know why you wanted me to come with you, it's not as if we're friends," she said, practically sulking at the redhead's side.

Willow huffed. "Because out of the two people who can actually_ see me_, I don't hate you with a burning passion," she replied, referring to the brunette cheerleader.

"Whatever," Anyanka said, walking as quietly as possibly beside the younger girl as they made their way through the thick forest that lay nearby the high school.

Buffy had almost hyperventilated when she had been told what had happened to her friend, needing her Watcher's help to sit down at the table. She hadn't even managed to look surprised when Cordelia went to get her a Diet Coke and Anyanka filled her in with practically no snark visible in her voice.

Then again, this_ was_ the one girl in all the world who could kick her ass without breaking a sweat.

Tended to calm a Demon down fast.

After the first ten minutes of shock, Buffy had called in Xander, who quickly arrived at the library for the research fest. For the first time in the six months he'd been helping, not a single complaint came from his lips.

Understandably so.

But Willow hadn't been able to handle it for long. The pitying looks thrown in whatever direction Cordelia or Anyanka said she was standing or sitting in. Or when they forgot she was there and spoke about her in ways they wouldn't normally in her presence.

The redhead had suddenly stormed from the room around midnight, and the Watcher had asked one of the girls to go after her just in case anything happened. The girl had chosen the Demoness for the reason stated above, and because Cordelia really wouldn't be much help with the protection.

Unless she could snark them to death, of course.

The two females continued to walk silently through the woods, perfectly okay with simply being, not having to fill the quiet with endless chatter. And for a girl who always babbled too much, it was a nice and rare moment for her to have.

But it would soon be broken.

It was hiding and watching and waiting.

So rarely did its food deliver to its doorstep.

_Yum._

* * *

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to knead out the pain. There was only one problem...it was all emotional and no amount of massage would rid him of it.

He needed a drink.

Angel had left less than an hour ago, for whatever reason he hadn't really been listening to, and Spike was completely and utterly bored. In the past, this boredom would lead to the mayhem-causing riots up and down Main Street, but that wasn't really a fathomable possibility anymore.

The Vampire often wondered if, had he been human in current times, he would've been diagnosed with ADHD; he couldn't seem to sit still.

If it wasn't his body that was moving, it was his words, or his fingers, or some other miniscule but important part of him. Like now...his brain.

Jumping from topic to topic in an attempt to distract himself.

He could lay back on the cot and go to sleep, but that would just introduce the horrifying dreams he'd been having on non-stop repeat lately. Not exactly something he was interested in. Besides, it was night and his body-clock wasn't prepared for anything but staying awake.

But the walls of this tiny apartment were closing in on him and he could barely take it any longer.

As he made his way to the door, stepping into his Docs on the way, he found himself missing his duster. It wasn'toften this came up, since gaining one soul, but there were times when the second skin he'd gotten so used to was like a hole in his head; unbearable to go without.

But he pushed away the depressing thought; that coat was lost somewhere in the heart of Africa.

It would never find its way back home.

Since he didn't actually feel the cold of the weather, he hadn't bothered to invest in a new one. Instead, he stepped outside into the night air of the big, chilly city, clad only in a black tee.

He ignored the stares of the bundled up people around him and made his way down the crowded sidewalk.

To where, he didn't know.

* * *

She sipped on the cold bit of whiskey in her glass, letting it soothe its way down her throat as she closed her eyes in relief.

She always loved finding places that didn't card.

Dawn sat at the very back of_ The Dragon's Lair_, rolling her eyes whenever she thought of the establishments name. Such an obvious Demon bar, if you asked her. But then, that may be the point and in that case the owner did a stand-up job.

Her well-protected box of goodies sat in the bag by her side, far too valuable to be left sitting in her motel room down the street and around the corner. No, it was to be kept with her at all times, until it was time to put it to good use.

She just wasn't sure when that was.

Dawn hadn't been in Cleveland long, but already she felt the heady and intoxicating energy of the Hellmouth surround her in its coating thickness. It was unbearable at times, and yet addicting all at once. She wasn't sure how to cope with it, and tried to constantly do something to distract herself from her inner wants.

Which was to head for the opening at the high school across town and soak it up with every spell she knew.

She shivered and shook her head, desperate for a distraction. She just hadn't expected the form it would come in.

He stepped in through the front door, relieved to finally be in a place that didn't look twice at his lack of attire. His pale arms stood out against the light of the small bar and he almost blinded the patriots of the pub. Hurrying towards the counter, where he ordered a stiff drink, he never noticed the familiar face by the back booths.

Dawn knew something was coming, knew surprises would be in store when she made the trip to Cleveland, but never in a million years had she expected this.

Expected Spike.

She knew better than to approach him - that would be like walking toward the lion in the wilderness - but that didn't mean her curiosity didn't keep her seated, instead of sneaking out the back way. What exactly was this volatileVampire doing on the Hellmouth?

It certainly went against everything she knew about him, both from obscure writings and face-to-face experiences.

Her brows furrowed in thought as she stared across the room at the bleach-blond undead. He had his back to her, head lowered as close to the bar counter as he could get away with. His pale fingers splayed across the see-through glass of gin and he was missing something important, she suddenly noted.

His duster.

Something was off with him, of this she was sure. Despite only a single encounter more than a year ago, she felt she knew him well enough to tell when there was something strange going on.

And there was definitely something strange going on.

She threw back the last of the burning liquid, grabbed the parcel that held her box, and slid to the side of the booth before taking the back door outside. It was raining, yet she barely noticed; she had information to get her hands on.

What was William the Bloody doing in Cleveland, did it have anything to do with what was brewing in the Hellmouth, and what exactly had changed about him in the past two years?

All these questions and more were swirling through her tired mind as she made her way down the dark streets of the city, heading for the most reliable source of Demonic info she had found since arriving here.

She needed answers and she needed them fast.

Before her spinning head spun right off her shoulders.

* * *

Angel's feet had unwittingly brought him to the high school, where he soon found himself in an unfamiliar situation. After being filled in on what exactly was going on, he was set to stay in the library in case the Witch and Demoness returned before the group could find them.

Cordelia quickly became bored with his lack of interest and left for home.

That left the Vampire the only one remaining, wandering around the empty hallways of the high school, trying to distract himself from his own swirling thoughts.

A welcome distraction came from an unwelcome source.

"Hello? Yeah, I've been trying to reach you for a while, now," a deep voice intoned, from one of the supposedly empty classrooms.

Angel used his stealth well as he slipped closer, unnoticed. One look inside showed him an unfamiliar man with dark skin and a shaven head. His brows furrowed when the one-sided conversation suddenly turned to someone the Vampire knew very well.

"You were right, he's here in the city. No, I don't know. Not yet. He's staying with the other Vampire, Angelus, fornow. I'll check back in when I've got a better look at the situation. No, I'm not ready to approach the Slayer yet, but maybe the Watcher sooner than that."

Angel frowned and wondered what this strange man wanted with his Grandchilde. He needed to figure that out before he went at him; after all, the man was nothing more than human. His Demon and soul may be on better terms these days than ever before, but there were still limits to what he could do.

Instead, he followed the man through the darkness until they came to an office. Only after the man had left for the night did Angel sneak in and root through his papers. He came across only one thing, but it was enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck.

Wood...wasn't that the name of Spike's second Slayer kill?

* * *

She lay on the ground, shivering and shaking from the wound in her stomach. There were tears running down her cheeks and her hands gripped the dirt below every now and then in an effort to get herself through the agony she was feeling at the moment.

And yet there was a smile on her face.

"I'm so sorry," her voice shook as she stared through wet eyes at her two best friends.

Buffy knelt above her, also smiling through her tears, clutching the redhead's hand. "No, Will, it's okay. It's not your fault."

Xander nodded beside the blonde but was unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

This was the closest either of them had gotten to death since meeting Buffy and his whole body shook with fear for the future.

"I just wanted to get some fresh air," the redhead whispered, tears still pouring relentlessly out of her green eyes.

The Slayer nodded at her friend. "I know, sweetie, it's okay," she said, reaching out to run a hand down Willow's hair, while she sobbed out her next words. "We'll get you patched up and you'll be good as new, promise."

The three teenagers shook and cried and spoke words of love on one side of the cave, while the Watcher and Demoness busied themselves on the other side with burying the body of the one responsible for Willow's woes and agony.

"He's called Gnarl," Anyanka stated matter-of-factly, unwilling to show just how shaken this whole thing had made her as well.

Giles ripped off his glasses and stared at the woman, seeing right through her facade. "We can look it up later. For now, I think our priority is getting Willow to the hospital so they can take care of her wound." He heard the sirens in the distance and signaled to the children.

As carefully as they could get away with, the two teens helped the injured redhead out of the small cave and past the encroaching trees beyond to where the ambulance waited for them. The paramedics were unable to get the gurney past the harsh terrain.

Anyanka and Giles walked slower behind them, discussing how this entire thing had come about. While the Slayer had been busy fighting Gnarl and Xander and the Watcher had protected the girl they still hadn't been able to see or hear, the Demoness had been called off to another part of the world by an old comrade of hers.

One who held all of the answers.

It frightened the usually stoic Watcher to learn that this was all because of the inherent magical potential that lay inside the young redhead. After almost seventeen years so close to the Hellmouth, the energy had finally managed to unlock said potential and cause chaos in Willow's life.

Almost killing her in the process.

He knew exactly what he needed to do as soon as he had seen the redhead safely to the hospital; make a cross-Atlantic phone call.

To the Devon Coven.

The two paramedics loaded the gurney holding Willow up into the ambulance and glanced back at the sobbing teens, trying to determine whether they should invite one of them to join them on the trip across town. The decision was made for them when a steadfast young boy crawled up and took the redhead's hand.

Buffy watched from the pavement as Giles came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, we'll take my car."

In a rare moment of...something, something she could investigate later, Anyanka stepped forward as the ambulance doors closed. "I can get you there before Willow, Slayer," she offered, reminding the two humans of her teleportation ability.

It had come up earlier and quickly ruled out as a way to get the redhead to safety, as it would potentially be too jarring on her open wound.

Buffy nodded, unable to speak for the moment. Instead, her Watcher mimicked her thanks and stepped away to his car across the lot. "I will meet you there in a little while."

Anyanka grabbed the Slayer's arm and in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

And halfway across town to wait for the ambulance.

The night wasn't anywhere near over with yet.


	7. Chapter Seven

She stood in the middle of the small apartment and turned in several circles, taking in the three boxes and nothing else. This truly was a pathetic view of a person who was more than a thousand years old.

Anya huffed and crossed her arms over her chest; she may not be human, but living like one was really getting on her nerves...and it had only been a week since she began her new PTB task.

There was a knock on her door and she stepped across the room to open it to a young redhead. "Hi, I just thought I'd come by and see how you were doing in your new place," she spoke brightly, immediately sticking a potted plant in the Demoness' hands.

Apparently the girl had decided that, after what the two of them had gone through the previous week with Gnarl, they were now the best of friends. And for some reason, Anyanka had yet to correct the teenager.

Weird.

"Uh, thanks," she replied, walking over to the kitchen window and placing the plant on the otherwise empty sill.

When she turned back around Willow was standing in her own previous spot, a frown on her face. "That's not a lot of stuff, is it?"

Anya shrugged. "When you're a Demon, you don't really accumulate all that much. The fact that I can teleport leaves me without having to cart things around everywhere I go."

The redhead nodded. "I guess I can understand that. But you have_ some_ things," she said, pointing at the three boxes.

The Demoness sighed. "Most of it's not even mine. One of the boxes is stuff from my human life that my old boss saved, for some reason. The rest is hand-me-downs from Angel, Buffy and Giles." She shrugged as she finished speaking.

Willow's eyes suddenly turned intrigued. "Wow, what did you get from them?" She moved over to the boxes, paused and, when getting the okay nod from the Demoness, pulled open the flaps on the first one.

Anya stepped closer, also curious of what she'd find; she hadn't gotten around to looking inside of them just yet. "This one was from Angel's, with some stuff of Buffy's thrown in when he asked her to bring it to me."

From the top of the box Willow pulled out some pots, pans and plates from the Summers home, along with a pack of plastic forks and knives to get the other woman started. The redhead knew this was from Joyce's supply and she guessed that her blonde friend had informed her mother of the situation, leaving out the Demonic parts, of course.

Anya grabbed the stuff and put them on the kitchen counter, to be put away later. She sullenly reminded herself to thank the Slayer for it later, knowing that was the human custom these days. She returned to the middle of the room, more intrigued by what the Vampire would come up with than anyone else who had offered their charity to her.

Angel's part of the box certainly held more interest to both females than what little the Summers women had provided Anyanka. There were a few books she may be interested in reading, a table lamp, several candles, a box of matchsticks, a couple of coffee cups and three towels.

"That was nice of him," Willow said, staring at all of the items.

Anyanka once again shrugged. "I guess, though I'm surprised Buffy didn't add any clothing. I only have a few more outfits besides what I'm wearing."

The redhead turned around and squeezed the Demoness' shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll figure something out." She looked down at her own outfit before she could offer up her own closet. "I'll bring it up with Buffy next time I see her, promise."

"Cool," Anya replied, busy digging into the final box from the Watcher's place.

This one brought the new minion for the Powers the most useful artifacts of all; several books on magic that could be used by those with only a little power, some ingredients to get her started, a small radio, lore on Slayers and a few borrowed Watcher diaries for her new job. She was also surprised to find a gift certificate to a clothing store near her apartment building and...

"Whoa, hey, this is pretty cool," Willow said as she read the letter Giles had added in with the other things over Anya's shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess it is," she replied, her voice sounding off to the redhead.

Emotional.

According to the note from the Watcher, he had secured the woman a job with one of the local bookstores, going through inventory, to start with. Then, if her new boss liked what she did, she may move up to the counter and get some extra zeros on her paycheck.

She didn't know how to respond to such a nice offer; she wasn't exactly used to kindness.

Especially from Watchers.

Luckily for the Demoness, Willow sensed her mood and figured it wouldn't be something she'd want others to witness, so she quickly made up an excuse, patted Anya on the shoulder and let herself out.

The other woman never noticed she was gone.

* * *

As he got into his car and put the briefcase on the passenger seat, he had no idea that he was being watched. And if he would have known_ who_ was watching him? He may leave town with his tail between his legs immediately.

But Angel wasn't ready to let Robin Wood in on the truth, just yet.

He was learning far too much, stalking him as he was.

Once again he had found the surprising reality that was his soul not complaining, especially since what he was doing may very well save the life (and soul) of his Grandchilde. Considering that, with enough work and therapy, Spike would be a Champion in his own rights, it made protecting him, even from humans, more than the right thing to do.

It wasn't like the brooding Vampire was planning on killing Wood.

Angel hadn't brought it up with anyone, knowing that Giles wouldn't immediately recognize the name without some nudging, and that Spike had steered clear of the high school ever since his stay in the basement. There simply was no reason to ruffle any feathers until there was a reason to.

That didn't mean that the Vampire wouldn't watch the Slayer's son closely, especially after the conversation he had overheard the previous week. Without that, he may have just assumed that Wood had no idea about the location where he had been transferred.

But, with everything obviously happening in the Hellmouth right now, he couldn't afford to take any chances.

Hence the stalking.

At least he knew that Spike would be proud of him if he knew it was no longer the sixteen-year-old Slayer he was following around everywhere.

That had to count for something, right?

* * *

She was putting away the books in the office when Lydia stepped inside, lightly knocking on the open door to announce her arrival. Rather than let herself be distracted by the new presence, she simply nodded to show she'd heard her entrance and continued to put away everything from her earlier tutoring session.

Lydia sensed when she was done and waited to speak until then. "I received quite the interesting phone call today." She said, in a soothing tone.

It frankly frightened Star. "Oh," she replied, still with her back turned. "Who was it?"

"An old school mate of mine, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. He left the academy before we could graduate, but we've kept in touch every now and then since." Lydia finally stepped fully into the room and watched as Star turned around to face her.

"So he's not a Watcher?" The girl asked, taking a seat on the only chair while she watched the older woman lean against the desk.

"Not technically, though he has the training and is more qualified than most of the Watchers I graduated with. Anyway, that's not the interesting part."

Star snorted and rolled her eyes. "I would think not."

Lydia shook her head. "What have I said about this attitude, Starlene?"

She sat up at the sound of her full first name, frowning. "Fine, just stop with the name-calling, 'kay?"

The Watcher smirked. "Good, now, where was I? Ah, yes, the phone call. I've got some...not so good news, I'm afraid."

This piqued the girl's attention. "What does that mean?" Bad news had never been fun for the young teen.

From her mother's drug overdose to her legal guardian's fatal car crash, Star Porcher really despised bad news. And that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to her life.

Lydia pushed off the desk and came to stand in front of her young charge. "Wesley is traveling across the States right now, collecting Potentials to bring to the Hellmouth in Cleveland. According to his sources, something is happening there, something that may very well mean the future of all Potentials in the world."

Star remembered her teachings since she began living with the older Watcher. "Is someone trying to destroy the Slayer line?" They had discussed once that it was only a matter of when, not if.

The woman slowly nodded her head. "It would appear that way, I'm sorry to say. Now, while this power seems to be stemming from Cleveland, it would be safest for all of you girls to collect around the current Slayer. She will keep you safe."

"What about that other Slayer you told me about?"

"Yes, I asked the same thing. Wesley has already spoken with Mr. Zabuto and he is sending Kendra as soon as possible. For all we know, there will already be two Slayers in town when you and the others arrive."

Star's brows furrowed and she slowly rose from her seat. "But, am I gonna wait for this Wesley guy to show up? I mean, Cleveland's, like, right next to New York. It wouldn't take me more than a few hours to get there."

Lydia smiled at her charge and reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "Yes, while that is true, there is something else to be considered. First off, the active Watcher for the eldest Slayer still doesn't know we're coming, so he would need to be informed and prepared. Then there's the fact that there is a very sound high school that would, no doubt, accept you, given time to go over the application I'll be sending their way."

She frowned at the thought, having been tutored for almost three years now, but didn't bring it up. "And?" She said instead, sensing that her guardian had one more thing to mention.

"And, we'll need to pack up, give notice to the super, your various tutors, and I would need to make a phone call to the Council to let them know of our relocation." Lydia was the one frowning now.

"Wait, why does that make you look like that?" She asked, pointing one finger at the Watcher's mask of discomfort.

Lydia reached up to rub her forehead. "Because of a dilemma. I can't tell the Council why we are suddenly moving, but I have to give them a reason."

Now it was Star's turn to frown, hers a mask of confusion. "Why can't you tell them?"

"Because Wesley didn't simply drop out of the academy, he was thrown out for behavior unbecoming of a future Watcher. Ridiculous really, but his father is on the board of Elders and they have the final say. Even now, years later, they still flinch at the mention of his name. If I tell them that he was the one to tell me to relocate, they'll...well, they won't be very happy, I suppose is the nicest way to put it."

The girl's eyes widened. "Wow, so he's like...a Watcher rebel. Cool. Anyway, can't you just say that you heard it through some of your contacts or something?"

Lydia shook her head. "Active Watchers are the ones with contacts. Those like me, with Potential charges, are only meant to oversee your training and studying, in case you are Chosen next. No, I'll simply have to put off telling them. There are so many Potentials in the world, they may never notice that we're not where we're supposed to be."

Star grinned and clapped her hands on her Watcher's shoulders. "Chelsea, you dirty girl, I didn't know ya had it in ya!" She crowed as she left the room.

Lydia shook her head, a small smile on her face. "Silly girl," she whispered, before following right behind her.

They had some preparations to get started on.

* * *

"Okay, now just hold it there for a moment. Stay calm and remember your breathing."

Willow sat in the middle of the library table, legs crossed and one hand resting in her lap, while the other one was lifted in the air, trying to hold on to a very tiny ball of silvery light.

It was her third spell of the week...not counting the unintentional one that had almost gotten her killed.

"You-you're sweating, Willow, that's not good. That's not calm," her teacher said, worry in her voice as she came closer.

"No, just let me try on my own." And with amazing finesse the redhead soon stopped the perspiration and got her breathing in order.

Jenny nodded, keeping silent so as not to disturb the teen when she was finally get a hang on it. She'd stepped away, as quietly as possible, when the office door opened and the Watcher came out of his hibernation.

"How is she doing?" He asked, once more looking at the younger woman with grateful eyes.

He'd been more than a little relieved when the Coven had informed him that a practiced Witch already lived in the area. Though Jennifer Calendar had been raised a gypsy, which was slightly different magic, it would be more than enough to get the redhead started until the Devon Coven had a spare to send their way.

"She's got really good grasp of things; I don't have to show her the spells more than once or twice before she gets it. Though I think part of that is her determination not to mess it up." She smiled at the Watcher.

He removed his glasses as he leaned against the counter. "Yes, well, I understand that she very much wants to be useful to Buffy, in, uh, in her cause. This will certainly go a long way towards that."

Jenny shook her head softly. "We just have to make sure that's not the only reason why she's doing this. If it's more about herself and her need to be counted...it could go very wrong somewhere down the road."

Giles thought of his own past experience with magic and quickly agreed with her. "You're quite right, of course. Perhaps I can set aside some time each week, to speak with her?"

She stared at him. "You mean counsel her? An American teenage girl?" She smiled ironically at him.

"Yes, well, I suppose you have a point. What did you have in mind, then?"

Jenny shrugged. "I think all of the kids could use some therapy, with the kind of lives they lead. I have a friend in town, not exactly a therapist, but I still think she'd be good for them."

Giles nodded. "Why don't you talk it over with her and I'll bring it up with Buffy. I'll leave it to her to talk with Xander and Willow about it."

With new plans made, it was just in time for the redhead to come out of her trance as the ball of light slowly receded until it was gone. Jenny approached the girl, leaving the Watcher free to take the summons he was just now getting.

"Angel, what brings you to the library tonight?" He asked as he walked over to the swinging doors at the entrance.

The Vampire looked uncomfortable, but pushed through those emotions quickly. "I'm here to let you know that Spike would like to talk to you. As soon as possible, he said."

"Is he still not ready to come out yet?" Giles asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He's been out a few times to one of the Demon bars in town, once with me and about two times alone. I think it's the Hellmouth under the library that has him hesitant to come_ here_," he replied, fidgeting with his hands.

"I suppose that's more than understandable, given the circumstances. Why don't you wait while I get my coat and we'll take my car back to your flat?"

Angel hid his distaste for the Citroën very well and simply nodded in reply.

All he had to do now was spent the car ride wondering whether or not he should bring up the subject of Wood, now that the three men would be together in the same space.

It was certainly something to consider.

* * *

She rooted through her purse, looking for the wallet she knew she put in there, before leaving the apartment she shared with her Watcher.

Where was it?

Star was standing outside the corner market in her home of Brooklyn waiting for Chelsea to finish with the last of the grocery shopping. The girl had been hoping to make a quick stop by the shop a few doors down before they were done for the night, but that wasn't happening if she had no cash on hand.

"Dammit," she whispered, sighing and zipping her purse back up.

There was a sudden shuffling sound in the near distance and she turned to investigate. It seemed to be coming from the alley behind the grocery store and was growing louder.

No, she realized, not louder; closer.

As three years of training came to the forefront of her mind, she let her purse drop to the ground and pulled a stake and a knife out of her jacket pockets. She wasn't sure which to hope for: that Chelsea came out before a fight started or that she stayed inside and remained safe.

Considering that it was the Watcher that had trained her, it may be better to pray for the former, but her protective instinct really wanted to go for the latter.

There was no more time left to consider it as three Bringers bled from the shadows and came at her, all at once. She sucked in a deep breath and dropped into a fighting stance, cursing her status as a Potential, instead of a fully-fledged Slayer.

Unlike the movies, where attackers fell back and waited for their brethren to take a turn, they all jumped her at the exact same time, and from three different sides.

Fuck.

Hands clutching the stake and knife, body trying desperately to avoid the three curved daggers, sweat dripping down into her eyes, arms tiring, knees shaking, pavement scratching at her skin, on and on it went as she took blow after blow and felt the wicked blade slice into her dark skin.

"Star!" The voice cried out in the distance as spots appeared before her eyes and the blackness took her over.

The last thing she heard before she was gone was the scream of her guardian.

* * *

The two men stepped into the basement apartment where the partly bleached Vampire sat waiting for them, a glass of whiskey in his hand and two empty ones by the bottle on the table.

"That serious?" Giles said when he saw the liquor.

Spike simply shrugged his shoulders and used his foot to push a chair back, welcoming the Watcher to the seat across from him. After passing through the kitchen to warm up some blood, Angel took the crate again, this time beside his Grandchilde.

"Angel said you wished to speak with me?" Giles got started after pouring himself a drink.

Spike nodded. "Yeah, it's about my...future, guess you can call it. What's next and all that rot," he sighed, running a hand through his curls.

Angel decided to take pity on him and spoke up. "Spike wants to help out. Make up for his past and everything. You being the Watcher for the Slayer, he figured it was a good place to start, see if you needed him for anything. And to let you know that he's here if something ever goes down where you could use him."

Giles leaned back in his seat as he mulled this over. It certainly wasn't something he should just straight out turn down, not if he wanted his charge to someday be the oldest Slayer in history. There really was only one thing stopping him from simply accepting, right here and now.

And it was something that Spike had no problem picking up on. "I'm fully aware that I'll have to earn the trust of you and the Slayer, mate. All I'm asking for is that you use me as muscle until that moment comes. I'm going insane being stuck here all the bloody time and, like Peaches said, I want to get out there and start the whole bleedin...redemption thing," he said, barely keeping from rolling his eyes at his own words.

The Watcher almost laughed at the look in Spike's eye. "I have a feeling the trust won't take long to build, but you're right, in order to do so you'll have to actually spend time around myself and Buffy. I tell you what, why don't I see about acquiring both you and Angel a cellular phone, that way you can both be reached if you're needed?"

Both Vampires nodded but Angel was the one who spoke next. "That sounds like a plan. In the meantime, I can bring Spike with me on patrol and we can take the opposite side of where Buffy goes. More turf to protect."

"That would certainly be appreciated," Giles replied, not mentioning how much better he felt, knowing that Angel wouldn't be...stalking his charge.

The awkwardness didn't last long, and soon the inner Watcher inside of Giles bubbled to the surface as he asked Spike question after question. It was a testament to the Vampire's mental strength that he didn't mind answering them.

Of course it didn't hurt that he kind of liked the Watcher.

* * *

"So she survived?" Willow asked, eyes wide and locked on the Slayer.

Buffy nodded as she sipped her drink. "Yeah, she's the first one, at least as far as the dreams I've been having lately."

Xander chimed in from his seat next to the redhead. "You told Giles about this, right?"

"Of course. As soon as we knew that Willow was okay, I went back to the library with him and filled him in. Besides, I needed him to try and answer some stuff from the dream."

"You mean that guy who saved her? You wanna find out who it is, don't you?" Willow spoke, adjusting herself in the seat.

The Slayer nodded again, with more fervor this time. "Definitely. I mean, if we've got any allies against whatever it is that's coming, I'd want to know who so I can get them here or something. He looked tough, like he could handle himself in a fight. I can never have too many of_ that_."

The teens agreed with their friend as the conversation slowly drifted off to nothing. Xander went off to the dance floor and the redhead to the bar for more sodas.

In a city as big as Cleveland, there were lots of places for young adults to hang out when night fell. In the course of a week, the trio of evil fighters often ended up at three different ones; tonight, it was_ Shays_, a trendy club owned by a twenty-something hotel heiress.

Under her breath, Buffy hummed along with the music as she waited for her friends to return. She used the time wisely, thinking of everything that had happened in the past few weeks since school started back up again.

There were several things plaguing her waking mind these days, from her sorta-relationship with Angel that had appeared to have stalled for the moment, the introduction of a new souled Vampire, the dreams that haunted her sleeping hours, and the threat building that she was beginning to doubt she would be able to handle.

She didn't even know what it was yet, and already it was screwing with her head.

That didn't bode well.

She decided to take them point by point, which left her to begin with the boyfriend issue. Buffy had gotten the impression that Angel wanted to talk to her in the past week, but there had been so much going on - with Willow, her dreams, school and the slaying - that there hadn't been a good moment just yet.

A part of her was also procrastinating out of fear of what he had to say. Whether it was that he wanted to break up or that he wanted to move their relationship further forward, she really couldn't say which one she feared the most.

It made her head spin, so she moved on.

Spike. The handsome Vampire with a soul.

She frowned._ No, not handsome. Where the hell did that come from? Just...Vampire, okay? No handsome. Silly Buffy._

The bleached blond was a conundrum that she was kind of intrigued to unravel, if she were being honest. He was so completely different from Angel, and she hadn't even spent more than half an hour, combined, around him since finding him in the basement of her high school.

From the emotions that shone from his blue eyes to the way he couldn't seem to sit still, she found him to be as different from Angel as night and day. And to be quite frank with herself...she couldn't wait to see how he fought.

Which brought her to her dreams and the newest threat, two things she had a feeling were more connected than any of them realized at the moment. From the terrifying monsters that took the lives of innocent young girls, to ghosts haunting the hallways, blaming her for not saving them.

She couldn't_ see_ the connection but something told her it was_ there_, just waiting to be discovered.

Giles had gotten a certain look in his eye the last time they had discussed this, and Buffy wondered if he had some theories he wasn't sharing with her. Which she didn't blame him for, except that the last time he had kept something to himself to protect her, it had been the prophecy detailing her death.

And that hadn't exactly turned out well for his corner now, had it?

She reached up a hand to rub her forehead, where a sudden headache was slowly building.

A headache that was about to get a lot worse.

"Ah, Slayer, there you are," Anyanka said as she reached the table, just seconds shy of Willow and Xander both returning to their seats.

Buffy's brows furrowed. "What's going on?"

Willow listened intently to the Demoness that she probably knew better than her two friends while Xander looked suspiciously at the dangerous creature he definitely didn't trust very much just yet.

"I was checking up with some old buddies in town and I overheard something I thought you should know about," she said, not elaborating any further than that.

Buffy waited...and waited. "Well, are you gonna tell me what it was?" She leaned forward and raised her brows, ignoring the banging of her headache.

"Oh, sure, sorry. Some Demons were talking about how there were humans on their turf. Something about a bunch of guys wanting to sacrifice some woman to get...I don't know, power, or money, or whatever it is you humans lust after," she replied, rolling her eyes at her own words.

The Slayer came barreling to the surface, practically leaving the girl whimpering in the back of their combined mind. "What exactly did you hear and do we have anything to go on?" She said, slamming a flat hand down into the tabletop.

The teenagers were so intent on the words the Demoness spoke that none of them heard the usually cocky brunette cheerleader ask if anyone had seen her friend...


	8. Chapter Eight

Despite the size of Cleveland, the city somehow felt what was happening tonight, in practically every corner of it that existed.

In the high school to the north, Rupert Giles and Jennifer Calendar were busy with a batch of books, some hot tea and an urgency that they hadn't felt since the Master was still around the previous year.

They were rooting through tome after tome, trying to find some way of getting to the bottom of this most recent threat against an unknown innocent. While the Watcher looked for any indication of what kind of summons they were dealing with, the gypsy was going over her knowledge of magic to locate a spell that might help them as well.

Time was running out and tensions were at an all-time high.

Across town in the Demon district of the Hellmouth, the Slayer and two ensouled Vampires were searching through every single bar and pub, looking for answers to their newest mystery.

Angel searched through dingy, smoky bars, looking desperately for the same Demons that had been overheard earlier in the night by the Vengeance Demon. He ruffled feathers and rustled up new enemies, all in an attempt to learn what he needed.

A few buildings over, Spike and the Slayer were interrogating some lowlife critters that held enough of an ear to the ground to be useful snitches. One of them was held up by its coat by the Vampire while Buffy got uncomfortably close to the face of another.

But as the minutes passed, they got no closer to the truth.

Several roads over, now entering the poshest neighborhood of Cleveland, Ohio, two teenagers were spending time in the home of the least likely, in their own opinions: Cordelia Chase. They were offering her words of encouragement as they waited for her to tell her story.

The one where she was supposed to meet up with a friend of hers, a classmate of them all, but that the other girl had never shown up. How she had been acting weird lately, almost as if someone was following her and she still couldn't figure out who.

Willow and Xander were getting no closer to answers than any of the others, and their annoyance at the vain girl was running higher than ever before.

But maybe the final member of the impromptu search party would have better luck.

Once more we jump to a completely different part of the city, where we find Anyanka scouring the night clubs in search of one particular individual.

Three-hundred years ago, the Vengeance Demon was called to a small village in Russia by a girl who had been scorned by her husband-to-be. She had traveled there with her good friend, Halfrek, because the family that lived next door was abusing their young son and daughter.

Anyanka had ended up spending more time there than expected.

After turning the fiance inside out, so he was forced to wear his heart on his sleeve as he had promised her he had when they'd first started dating, the Demoness had gone to a small bar to get her bearings before moving on to the next caller.

And that's where she'd met Smith, one of the smaller Demonic species known as Goonies. And no, there was no connection to the movie, as they would vehemently shout to the world more than two centuries later.

The less than four-foot tall reptilian creature had struck up a conversation with the female Demoness and, from that day on, they continued to run into each other as the decades passed. It was nice, because despite what some people may think, it was only a rare species of Demons that were actually Immortal.

Not counting Vampires, of course, who were seen as filthy half-breeds to most true Demons.

As time had passed and Anyanka had engaged in more and more conversations with the tiny Smith, she had quickly noted that, wherever he lived at the time, he had a true ear to the ground. Partly because of his benign nature, partly due to his short stature, with just a smidgen of his inherent chameleon blood thrown in.

So when she learned that Smith had been living in Cleveland for the past two decades, she knew finding him was of the utmost importance.

And so she did just that, in one of the lesser-known Demon bars in town.

"From what I heard," the small creature said, lisping past his lizard-y tongue, "some of the boys from the local high school want to be big shots. They found a way to do just that, but it will require a very special sacrifice."

Anyanka rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, a virgin?"

Smith grinned, showing sharp teeth that belied his vegetarian nature. "Not quite that simple, Anyanka. Not only does the sacrifice need to be virginal, it also needs to be female, below a certain age and with only pure blood running through her veins."

The Demoness furrowed her brows in thought. "Pure blood? Wait, you don't mean..." she trailed off, expecting him to finish the sentence for her.

Which he did, nodding at her. "Few are left these days, but there still exists those that come from a pure line. No mixed blood. If they have this girl you spoke of, they either_ think_ she's one of the rare few, or she truly_ is_."

Anyanka sat back in her seat and wished she had a drink in front of her.

This would make things much harder.

She'd chosen a hell of a time to switch teams.

* * *

As she slowly came to, swimming to the surface of consciousness, she tried to pry apart her crusted eyelids and take stock of where she was.

The last thing she remembered was being swarmed by a trio of Bringers.

"Welcome back, Ms. Porcher," a voice spoke and she tried to identify the face through a blurry vision.

"Where am I?" she spoke, shocking herself with the weakness and cracks in her own voice.

She felt a hand patting her on the shoulder. "You're at St. Martin's hospital in Brooklyn, Ms. Porcher. Now, try not to talk or move too much, you'll jostle your injuries, dear."

But Star ignored her and pushed into a seated position, violently blinking her eyes so she could see. "Hospital? But...what happened to me?"

A blurry but kind face looked at her with pity. "Oh, honey, you were attacked. Some people called the police and an ambulance, but unfortunately no one got a good enough look at the attackers. The police will want to speak with you as soon as you're well enough for company."

Star frowned. "My injuries?"

The nurse put down the chart with a sigh and approached the bed again. "Two stab wounds and some abrasions from lying on the ground, but that's about it. Oh, and some surface wounds on your hands; I'm guessing you fought back."

She let herself fall back in bed as she thought of the nurse's words. The nurse that wasn't leaving the room, but fluttering around, checking the various machines that the girl was hooked up to.

She remembered the Bringers; they had come out of the shadows of a nearby alley and went at her, head on, not stopping for a moment to allow her to assess the situation. She had done her best to defend herself, but...the very last thing she remembered was the darkness taking her over...and pain.

That must be the stab wounds the nurse mentioned.

But, wait...that's wrong. It's not the last thing she could remember.

"Nurse?" She said, panic in her voice. "There was a woman there, my guardian. Lydia Chalmers? Do you know if she's okay?"

But the woman's look said it all. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. She didn't make it."

This time Star welcomed the blackness with open arms.

* * *

The pair walked down the dark streets, eyes and ears peeled for anything that may be of interest to them.

They had come up with nothing and hoped the others had had more luck.

Buffy sighed and glanced to the side, taking stock of her partner; this was the first time she'd spent any real alone time with him since the first time they'd met. "Where should we go next?"

Spike continued to stare straight ahead as he answered. "Back to the school. Maybe someone else got something."

"But, see, we would know if they did," she said, grinning slightly as she pointed to the beeper attached to her belt.

The Vampire snorted and rolled his eyes. "Right, then, guess we just keep wandering until we find one of two things; answers to our search or a sign that the others got luckier than us."

The blonde nodded at his words and then turned back to stare out over the scenery in front of them. She felt awkward here, walking beside this mystery wrapped in black and topped off with bleached ends of hair.

Spike felt entirely unique to her, even on her spidey senses.

She kept glancing at him on and off as they walked, taking stock of his attire and wondering why he wasn't wearing a coat. Sure, his kind couldn't actually_ feel_ the drop in temperature, but from all of her experience, they usually dressed the part in order to better blend in.

She had a leather coat back in her closet that would attest to this.

However, she felt nowhere near comfortable enough around him yet to actually ask, and so she was left with more mystery regarding the bleach-blond. It was only slightly annoying, though, and not something she blamed at Spike's feet, so she simply sighed and let it be.

The Vampire himself was having difficulty with his own thoughts concerning the Slayer beside him. Granted he hadn't spent a lot of time in the past actually_ conversing_ with the chits, but he still felt that she was unlike anyone else that came before her.

He had yet to see her fight but somehow, deep inside, he knew that it would be spectacular.

For a brief moment, he almost wished he had come to town in order to get his third notch, just so he could experience what it was like to dance with this spitfire of a Slayer.

But that moment soon passed.

The duo of supernatural fighters made circles around the city, moving ever closer to the school with each turn so they could be close when the signal came through. They were both on edge, though for vastly different reasons. Buffy wanted to rescue the girl and get back to her bed, where she could focus completely on her spinning thoughts. Spike was about to enter his first-ever battle for the side of good and felt off because of it.

Neither knew where to turn for answers but, for the moment, seemed more than at ease simply walking along, quiet and lost in their own individual minds.

Until a beep ruined the silence.

* * *

Giles couldn't help one thought from creeping into his otherwise worried mind: the library had never been this full before.

As he stood in the opening to the back office, arms crossed, he watched the people all around him.

By the counter stood the young computer science teacher, who had also turned out to be a gypsy, going through maps of the city for the trek that was coming up very soon.

By the weapons cage across from Jenny were the empowered beings: his Slayer and the two male Vampires with souls. They were quiet as they grabbed swords, knives and crossbows, hiding them around their bodies. They passed over the crucifixes, holy water and stakes, knowing they would not be dealing with Vampires.

The fact that it was humans didn't make the situation feel any better for any of them.

The weapons were only a precaution, for two reasons: in case the boys managed to bring forth the Demon they were planning on summoning, and to help handle the situation, should it get out of hand.

But each of the three knew that a death blow was out of the question, even if it came down to one of their own.

Not counting the innocents behind them, of course.

At the table in the middle of the library sat the powerless teenagers and one surly Vengeance Demon.

Willow and Xander had finally managed to get the full story out of the cheerleader seated in between them and, when they rushed out to return to the school, Cordelia had insisted on coming with them.

It was her friend, after all.

After Anyanka had brought the news to the Watcher, he had asked that she check up on the ones from their group who couldn't handle themselves as well against a threat, while he gathered everyone together in one place. Because of that, popping in in front of the teenagers just when a Vampire bled from the shadows, the three of them made sure always to stay nearby her.

The Demoness was feeling very smothered at the moment.

But even as the man watched all of this going on, he knew that time was running out. Knew that there was a girl out there in the city, desperate for someone to come take her from her captors and bring her back where she belongs; to the warm bosom of her home.

The Watcher prayed they'd make it in time.

* * *

The room was dark, the only light coming from beneath the doorway and the moon shining in through the large window to her left. But she wanted it this way.

She deserved the darkness.

Star sat on the pristine white hospital bed, covers rumpled all around her and her knees loosely held to her chest by shaking arms. Her dark eyes stared out into the nothingness, only one image floating in her mind's eye; her Watcher.

Her guardian, her mentor...her friend.

And now she was gone.

Because of her.

Silent tears ran down her cheeks and dripped off her chin, landing in a pool between her clenched knees. She shivered and shook but never noticed a thing. All she could see, all she could feel, was the pain of what she had brought on such a beautiful woman.

All because those damned Bringers wanted_ her_ dead.

So why was she still alive?

The young girl never noticed when the same nurse from earlier walked into the room, explaining to the battered and bruised patient that the victim's sister had contacted the hospital, wanting to know if Star was okay. When the nurse didn't get a response, or even a reaction, she sighed and left again.

Prepared to return every now and then, waiting for the girl to pay attention to her.

She needed to know that someone still cared.

Across the ocean in the busy Heathrow airport sat a woman very similar to Lydia. She had just finished her phone call to the American hospital and was now waiting for the loudspeakers to call her flight for boarding. Her name was Chelsea Chalmers and she wanted to get to the Potential before the Bringers found her.

Again.

On an American highway a worried Wes called his friend's cell number for the third time.

And for the third time there was no response.

* * *

Buffy wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about all of this.

She sat crouched beneath the windows leading into one of the empty classrooms of the high school, waiting for the moment to pounce. And as she sat there, cramps building in her thighs from her position, she couldn't help but peek in every now and then.

At the human boys who were about to viciously murder an innocent girl.

Sure, Aura Parker wasn't the nicest person in the world, being one of Cordelia's crew, but that certainly didn't mean that she deserved something like this.

Buffy wasn't sure anyone did.

This whole situation was making the Slayer ask questions that she really didn't want to. Questions she was sure the Council wouldn't want her to, either, if she could properly read the look on her Watcher's face as he sat beside her. His face was pinched and there was something brewing in his eyes.

It looked like personal disappointment.

The Slayer thought of the past, though, and couldn't help but realize that this wasn't the first time she had seen cracks in the Council's belief of black and white. Angel didn't count, because he was cursed with a soul and would probably still be evil if he hadn't been.

But there were other signs.

Catherine Madison had been a human with a soul and had still terrorized and almost killed her own daughter. Billy's coach had also been a human with a soul and so had Marcie the Invisible Girl. At the same time, she thought, thinking of the Vampire on the other side of the classroom, Spike had sought out his human soul_ before_ he had it.

Her head spun with the implications.

She was once more grateful for her experience with juggling more than one thing at a time; despite thinking of such heavy things, she could still clearly hear the happenings beyond the wall and see the allies that were scattered all around her and the Watcher.

The chanting grew in cadence and she glanced over at the Demoness, waiting for her sign. It hadn't been easy for her to accept a plan that depended on the recently evil Anyanka, but one look at Spike had Buffy giving the other woman a chance. She did seem to honestly want to help.

Even if Anyanka herself was shocked by that.

Buffy saw what she was waiting for and lifted her hand, giving her own sign to those watching her, before moving in through the slightly open window and sliding to the ground immediately after she'd made it inside. She didn't wait to see if the much heavier Watcher would make his entrance as silently as hers, instead moving forward, staying close to the floor.

Now that she was in the same room as them, she could hear their words more clearly, though did not understand the dead Demonic language they were uttering. She still couldn't see them yet, but knew from what Anyanka had learned about the ritual that it wouldn't be time for them to slice and dice Aura for another few lines.

Which gave her time to get into position.

Along with everyone else, she thought, as she saw the Vampires on the other side of the large classroom, the Demoness blocking the only door leading out into the hallway and her Watcher getting out a blanket. It was his job to get Aura out of here safely.

Buffy had realized how amazing it was to now have Spike and Anyanka on her side, because it meant that she could leave Willow and Xander behind in the library instead of putting them in danger.

Even if it had made the both of them sulk.

Buffy peeked over the teacher's desk she was crouching behind to get a lay of the land. The tables had been pushed aside leaving a large and open space in the middle of the room, where red sand had been poured into a circle. Since Aura wasn't sitting inside the circle, ready to be sacrificed, Buffy correctly guessed that it was where the Demon would stand when it arrived.

She gestured to the Vampires to keep their eyes peeled on that spot, as it was their job to deal with the Demon if the ritual couldn't be stopped. Meanwhile the Slayer, who had a better grasp on her own strength and wouldn't accidentally take a human life, would deal with the sacrificing boys.

Her own classmates, she thought with an internal growl.

There were seven of them, she realized after a quick count, all wearing maroon-colored robes that covered everything except their hands and necks. She still couldn't see their faces, though. She got into position, getting ready to jump across the table and take out the two closest to her.

Just when she was getting ready to give the signal, something went wrong.

"What is going on in here?" A voice came from the doorway by the desk that the gang had forgotten in all of their planning.

One of the boys turned around in shock and his hood fell off his face. "Mr. Wood!" He exclaimed, staring at the new History teacher.

Buffy rolled her eyes, taking advantage of the distraction as she jumped into the fray, knocking out the two boys she'd been planning to anyway. Now they were down to five and she could see the Vampires getting involved, too, even though that wasn't what they had discussed.

But the plans had changed with the surprise arrival of another innocent.

From the corner of her eye she could see Giles fighting his way towards where Aura was sitting, tied up tightly and wide eyes on the fights going on all around her. Buffy could spare her no more thoughts as she took a fist to the face, though it thankfully was nothing compared to her battles with the Demonic.

These puny humans had no idea what they were getting involved with, trying to fight back against a Slayer, two Vampires and a very strong Vengeance Demon.

And, as Buffy stepped back to take a look at the chaos, she noticed the teacher fighting off attackers left and right.

The man had style and obviously seemed more than capable of taking care of himself. And, Buffy frowned, wasn't the least bit surprised by Angel and Spike both sporting game faces.

Though he did take a step back when he saw Anyanka's.

She shook her head, this wasn't the time for heavy thoughts and questioning teachers. Hearing a ruckus by the windows, she spun around only to see the back of her Watcher's tweed jacket as he got away safely with the innocent.

She had time for a quick sigh of relief before she was pulled back into the fight.

Now that Aura was safe and Mr. Wood was so obviously handling himself, the rest of it took no time at all. Soon all seven boys were tied up and sitting in a nice row, all along the floor, with the two Vampires standing sentry while the Slayer pulled her History teacher aside.

"Explain, now," she demanded, forgetting for a moment that she herself had some things to explain.

Robin wiped some of the sweat off his forehead and sighed, dark eyes staring everywhere but at her. "It's a long story. I'm guessing, however, that the rumors are true. You're the Slayer?" He raised a brow as he finally looked at her.

She stepped back in shock. "You know what a Slayer is?"

Angel watched from the other side of the room, praying that what he knew about the man wouldn't come up. Not here, with Spike watching and listening and no doubt being able to recognize the name Nikki Wood if he heard it.

Or he could simply count back if Robin was to say that he was the son of a Slayer.

But luck seemed to be on his and his Grandchilde's side. "Like I said, long story. We really should deal with this first," the dark-skinned man said, gesturing with one hand toward the seven humans.

Buffy reluctantly agreed, wanting to get back to the library to make sure that Aura made it back home safely and that there weren't any more students boys lying in wait, just in case their night of ritual went awry...as it had.

The Slayer soon decided that something very good had come out of Mr. Wood's surprise entrance and participation in the fight; it meant a witness to the crime. The police came to pick up the seven delinquents and, while they couldn't be arrested for kidnapping and attempted murder, they wouldn't be graduating with the rest of their class in a few years either.

Maybe that would teach them not to play in someone else's sandbox.

Buffy stood at the entrance of the school, arms crossed as she watched the boys being escorted into the car that would bring them to the station. She neither frowned nor smiled, staring across the lot and wondering why the world was like this.

It was one thing to battle the creatures of the night; was she now expected to take on humanity as well?

She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"We're going now," Angel spoke from beside her, pulling her out of her thoughts. She turned to him, seeing Spike standing a few feet behind the taller Vampire. "The sun will be up soon," he explained, sticking his hands in his pockets.

The blonde nodded slowly, green eyes staring into brown, knowing he had another thing on his mind. "Thank you for all your help tonight. Both of you," she said, leaning to one side to say the last thing to the bleach-blond.

It was Angel's turn to nod, clear his throat and then growl something to his Grandchilde. Spike began to make his way down the street at a slow but steady pace. "When you have the time, at some point in the next few days..."

She knew where this was going and almost sighed in relief. "We need to talk."

His smile was small and slightly ironic as he nodded his agreement. "Goodnight."

She replied in kind and watched him catch up to his current roommate, before turning back for the doors and re-entering the school structure. She had an innocent to get home safely.

It was almost a half hour later before the lights of the library were turned out and everyone began to make their way home. There had been some tea, some talk and some explanations for the frightened young girl who refused to let the energy of the Hellmouth force her to forget the truth.

The three teenagers had yawned their way through Giles' Slayer and Watcher and Demon talk, with Cordelia listening almost as intently as Aura, although trying very hard not to show just how interested she was.

She still had her dignity, after all.

Now, the two adults were making sure that Xander and Willow got home safely while Buffy walked the two cheerleaders back to their gated community. There was near absolute silence, only the sound of their steps heard through the quiet of the night.

The Slayer could tell that the two girls wanted to talk about what had happened and was grateful that they, for once, had enough respect not to gossip about her and her friends while she was right there. The glint in Cordelia's eyes told her, however, that if they didn't arrive at their homes soon, that respect would run out.

Buffy sighed to herself in relief when they finally stood before the large, silver gate, the guard asleep at his post.

Cordelia rolled her eyes at the sight and turned around to face the Slayer, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her fancy, designer coat. "Well, thanks, I guess, for tonight. It was really..." she sighed, as if this next word was literally painful for her to utter, "nice."

The blonde barely managed to hold back a snort, nodding her thanks to the brunette. She turned to Aura, not expecting much but wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt, just in case.

The petite girl stared at the Slayer with unshed tears brimming in her eyes. "Thank you, Buffy. I know that...I've never been very nice to you. Thank you for not holding that against me and saving me anyway. I'm sorry."

Buffy shrugged, feeling awkward. "It's fine. It's what I do," she quipped, trying to make it seem like less than what it was.

Aura rubbed her hands up and down her arms. "Still...thanks."

Now Buffy wasn't the only one feeling awkward.

"Uh, you're welcome. Goodnight," the Slayer said, trying not to seem like she was hurrying too much to get away from them.

When their own repeated words floated back to her, she turned her back and quickly made her way back down the sidewalk, heading for her own home and the warm bed that awaited her.

A bed that would stay untouched on this evening as she heard Cordelia screaming behind her.

She turned back around just in time to see the body of the girl she had saved tonight fall to the ground.

Dead.


	9. Chapter Nine

The sun shone brightly down on the green grass, causing the raindrops from the previous night to sparkle like emerald diamonds on the ground. It was truly a beautiful day.

She didn't feel it.

Her heels kept sinking into the soggy earth below her feet and her black dress was too tight around her middle section, digging into her spine and ribs whenever she moved. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her eyes were dark and stormy.

She hated funerals.

Her mother came up to her, a pitying smile on her poison-injected lips. "Come on, Cordelia, the minister is ready to begin."

She shrugged her hand off her shoulder and walked over to the congregation on her own. There was a small piece inside of her, buried deep down, that felt relief and pleasure when she saw a familiar head of blonde hair, and she stepped away from her family and the Parkers to go stand with the one person who had actually tried to save Aura.

"I'm glad you came, Buffy," she spoke, surprising the both of them by meaning it completely.

The Slayer's lips tilted into a half-smile. "It was the least I could do."

With that, they turned toward the hole in the ground, covered by a mahogany coffin that was to be lowered into it when the minister finished his speech. They didn't need to touch or talk to know that the other person was there for them, even with their less-than-pleasant past together.

It was the true beauty of the day.

It had been quite a shock for the young Slayer to be told that Aura had a rare heart problem, one that even the girl herself hadn't been aware of. While Buffy knew that it meant nothing she did would've made a difference, she couldn't help but feel the guilt, if even just a little.

Though it was covered mostly by the over-empowering sense that she couldn't always save them all, no matter how fast she ran or hard she fought.

She didn't like it.

It made her worry more for those she loved, knowing they could be taken from her at any second, due to some human disease. She had spent the night, after returning from the hospital, clutching to her mother in every room the older woman went.

Thanks to Aura's very human death, Buffy had been able to explain why for the very first time.

Joyce had patted her on the hand and promised to get a check-up as soon as possible, even if it was just to assuage her daughter's fears.

Buffy had convinced her Watcher and friends to do the same; she and Willow had appointments the following day after school.

You could never be too careful.

In fact, when the funeral came to an end and the casket was fully immersed in six feet of dirt, Buffy pulled Cordelia aside for just this reason.

She may not be a friend, but the blonde didn't want to lose anyone.

Not if she could help it.

* * *

She walked down the long path, smiling at the occasional student that passed her by. She'd always loved the feeling she got when surrounded with adult college students; they had such a thirst for knowledge that was rarely found in high school.

Even those that had been jocks and cheerleaders in their teens.

Her book bag swung back and forth on her right arm and her dark hair blew around in the light breeze of this autumn day. She couldn't keep the smile off of her face even if she wanted to, though she certainly didn't. Nothing could bring her down right now, not even the thought of the funeral across town.

As sad as it was, being raised by gypsies meant that Jenny knew it was a part of the circle of life and she wasn't going to let it destroy her day. She knew that that didn't make her a bad person...just a human one.

The young Computer Science teacher had been to a meeting at the college about a project the school was working on, to bring them further into the coming millennium. That meant newer technology and Jenny was surprised to learn that she was considered an expert in that particular field; especially in such a big city.

But she was happy to help.

The board members had been very kind and not the presumptuous prigs she had met in other large American cities. People took one look at her lack of a 'good name,' her obvious foreign blood and her new-age-y sense of style and decided she wasn't worth much compared to them. It was unfortunately something she had been forced to get used to.

It was also just one of the reasons why she was beginning to enjoy the company of one Rupert Giles; Watcher extraordinaire. He was so used to being surrounded by books of all sizes and shapes that he never judged one by its cover.

Exactly what she had been looking for.

The young woman rolled her eyes at her own sudden need to whistle her mood out loud and she snorted to herself at the thought. She walked onto a cobbled road and saw the students sitting outside in the nice weather, studying on the grass.

It made her remember her own university days with fondness; it had been the first time her clan had allowed her to leave home.

Now, living in Cleveland, was the second.

A noise brought Jenny to a stop as she tried to figure out where it was coming from. It sounded like a banging, as if someone was stuck somewhere and couldn't get out. Her brows furrowed and she turned her head to the left, where a path led down to what appeared to be a fraternity.

If not for her recent experiences with the Slayer and her group of fighters, she would've walked right on by.

Her long skirt swished against her legs as she made her way down the cobbled path to the front door. Lifting up a hand to knock, she saw that it was open and shivers ran up and down her spine. Mentally preparing a spell, just in case, she pushed open the door and called out to whoever could hear her. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

Besides the persistent knocking noise, there was no response.

She knew that walking away wasn't an option anymore, not if she wanted to be able to live with herself, so she stepped across the threshold and into a large, open space revealed behind the ajar door.

It appeared to be some kind of common room, with couches and chairs and lamps and tables, yet there was no television in sight. She slowly walked down the two steps and tried to find out where that recurring noise was coming from. An echo sounded from her right and she turned in that direction.

She didn't expect what she found, not in her wildest imaginations.

Running back into the common room, she fell to her knees and let out the contents of her lunch and breakfast for the day. She wouldn't have been surprised if some of her dinner from last night was there, too. She heaved and coughed, tears streaming down her face as she tried to forget what she had just seen.

And yet the odd, ominous knocking continued.

Then, as the hacking receded and stillness took over, she heard the first sound in minutes that was a lot more human; it was a female voice, repeating the same sentence, over and over.

It was coming from a closet inside the room from which Jenny had just run.

"I take it back. I take it back. I take it back."

* * *

She roamed the hallways in silence, trying to find something to do. She hated being this bored, but that was an unfortunate side-effect of her life.

She prayed for excitement.

Now, one might think that being a Potential Slayer who had been raised by a powerful Witch for a mother and allowed free run of the inner halls of the Council Headquarters in London would be nothing_ but_ excitement...they'd be wrong.

Emma was used to this life, the way a normal girl in high school was used to her life; she wanted something different, something_ new_.

At fifteen years old, she had seen and experienced more than most, but, to her, it was completely mundane. Visiting her mother's coven in Devonshire was mundane. Spending time with the old farts that made up the Watchers Council was mundane. Sneaking down into the basement cells to talk with the captured Vampires and Demons had stopped being exciting when she was eleven.

She wanted to get out of here. Out of the Council, out of London, out to see the world in all its splendor.

A splendor she had only read about in books.

Growing up, her mother had been kept busy with the coven and had been unable to take her places. The farthest they had ever gone for vacation was to visit her uncle in Bath. That was old news, in Emma's opinion. And when her mother had passed away two years ago, the Watchers had certainly been too busy constantly protecting and training her, to bring her with them on missions to other countries.

She wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all, but she couldn't, because she was no longer alone in the hallway.

"Ah, Miss Garland," yet another of the stuffy Brits spoke as he spotted her. "I believe Mr. Berkshire is waiting for you in the training rooms. You were supposed to meet him there ten minutes ago, dear girl," he said, offering her a kind smile.

She saw right through it to his impatience and annoyance with her, two emotions hiding right above the surface of his haughty eyes.

She rolled her own, uncaring that he could see her, clear as day. "I'm on my way."

One of these days, she swore to herself, she would go out into the world and prove that she could take care of herself.

One of these days...

* * *

She sat down on the leather chair trying to figure out what to do with her hands. What did she usually do with her hands? The awkwardness was getting to her and she wanted to scream in frustration. Instead, however, she just sat in silence waiting for him to open the conversation.

He_ was_ the one who had invited her here, after all.

Angel sat down across from Buffy, setting a can of Diet Coke in front of her and hiding his own sigh with a sip of coffee. Spike's presence had helped to change a lot, but the older Vampire still wasn't comfortable drinking blood in front of the woman he loved.

It couldn't possibly be leftovers from his own human days, since he barely had any respect for his own family back then, but somehow it had become ingrained in him by now. Somehow.

When it became clear that he wasn't going to be speaking anytime soon, the blonde decided to jump in with the only topic she could think of right now that wouldn't make things even more awkward. "So, where's Spike?"

As if startled, Angel sat up straight suddenly, dark eyes boring into her own. "He didn't say, just that he had something to do. I'm not his keeper and I think he gets impatient hanging around here all day and night," he said in a soft tone, so the Slayer missed the bite of his otherwise harsh words.

One sentence each, the blonde thought to herself, as things quickly became awkward again. She was beginning to realize that this was a feeling she was used to getting when around this particular individual. Perhaps it was time to reconsider just how in love the two of them could really be.

Love wasn't supposed to be awkward, right?

The frustration returned, and Buffy barely kept her voice calm when she broke the silence once more. "You wanted to talk to me?"

Angel sighed and finished the coffee. "I did. You have to understand, this wasn't an easy decision for me to make, and one I didn't come to until I had spoken with Ms. Calendar last week."

Buffy nodded solemnly. "It's about the loophole to your curse, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. As you know, Ms. Calendar is part of the clan that originally cursed me, all those years ago. I wanted to know as many details as possible about what was done, most importantly how to prevent it from being broken. Unfortunately, you and I can't be together until I find a way to fix it; it's just too dangerous."

She looked down into her lap where her hands were still fidgeting, trying not to cry. Despite her very recent realization that it may not be love, that didn't mean she didn't care for him and couldn't, someday, fall deeply in love with him. She didn't want it to end before it had even gotten a chance to begin.

"So, what did you decide?" She asked, her voice low and solemn.

Angel sat forward and slowly wrapped his hands around hers. "I'm leaving in a week or two, once I get everything sorted out. I'm going to go find the Demon in Africa that gave Spike his soul and fight for my own, too. That way, it will be mine and there won't be any curse or loophole attached. Once that's done, I'll come back. I promise you."

When her tears finally dropped, they weren't all out of sadness. Large eyes stared into his. "Really? You'd do that for me? For us?"

Angel smiled at her, not realizing that it was the first time he had shown her one of those. "Of course, Buffy, I love you. I'd do anything so we could be together. If that means being away from you for awhile...well, I know you can take good care of yourself and that you have very powerful allies. I've already gotten Spike to promise he'll look after you while I'm gone."

She nodded, knowing she didn't need protection but touched by the thought anyway. "Do you know how long it will take?"

At this question Angel's face fell. "From what Spike told me, it won't be easy and it won't be quick. Getting to Africa takes less than a day on a plane, but the journey to the place that holds the caves...that's the tricky part. You have to get through trials just to be allowed entrance in to_ see_ the Demon, not to mention the_ actual_ trials."

She knew he was avoiding it. "Angel," she said, as sternly as her emotions would let her right now.

He sighed. "It will probably be months. It might be more."

Her large, round eyes stared at him, hands shaking in his hold as her head grasped those words.

She had nothing left to say.

* * *

Consuela grabbed the handle of the vacuum cleaner and the basket of cleaning supplies from the floor, then bowed slightly to the young girl on the bed, leaving her alone for the first time since the family had returned from the funeral.

She was worried about the girl she had almost raised herself.

Ever since the shocking and sudden death of her friend, Ms. Parker, Cordelia had barely spoken, barely eaten, barely shown any emotion. While that meant she was no longer treating everyone like they were something stuck to her shoe, she wasn't doing anything else either.

She just sat in her room, staring.

Consuela sighed as she shut the door behind her and continued on to the next bedroom. She had chores to do and worrying about the Chase girl would have to wait until later.

On the other side of the door, the girl sat on her large princess bed, legs crossed and chin resting on her closed fists. Her eyes were dry but steely hard as they stared out over the balcony and into the blue sky beyond.

She didn't know how to deal with this tragedy.

Cordelia had made a lifestyle out of putting on a facade, hiding her true emotions behind tough words and vicious barbs and a fake laugh that could make your ears bleed. Only three people in the entire world even knew the real her, and even then, it was only a few sides to her, not the full package.

Those people were Cordelia's maternal grandmother, who lived across the country and hardly ever visited, Consuela Juarez, the Chase family's maid since the brunette was two years old, and Aura Parker.

Now she was down to two people she could trust to be herself around.

She sighed and blinked her eyes a few times before she went back to her pensive staring. It just wasn't enough anymore, not enough to have someone who was never around to be there for her, and a woman who would be fired if her parents learned how close they were.

With Aura, she had been able to talk about anything she wanted, whenever she wanted. She could spend nights at the Parker home and not have to pretend to be someone she wasn't. To pull the other girl aside in the Bronze if she wanted to say something away from the rest of the Cordettes.

Aura had always been supportive, kind and there to hear her out, never getting bored or annoyed with her.

And in return, Cordelia had been there for her.

For years, the brunette had comforted herself with the knowledge that she only had to hold out until college. Then she could go far away from here and start over, be herself and make the kind of friends she_ wanted_ to make. As long as she had Aura, she could go the distance until graduation.

What the hell was she supposed to do now?

* * *

She pressed up against the wall, her breath silent and eyes wide, as she prayed for this to work.

She would be so screwed if she was caught.

Emma had finished training three hours ago and been sent back to her room until dinner, to read up on her homework for tomorrow. She hated learning dead languages but knew better than to go against the Watchers, especially now that her mother wasn't here to put her foot down.

She swore Travers was secretly glad to see the elder Garland woman die in that freak fire two years ago; then he could choose to raise the young Potential the way_ he_ wanted her to grow up.

Stodgy old bastard.

However, before Emma had made it to her room, she had overheard a very interesting, and truly frightening, conversation. Knowing better than to let herself be seen, she had waited until they changed topic before moving on to her small home, where she thought about what to do about what she had learned.

She had to get to the States now.

Her Aunt Lydia had been killed.

Emma had sat on the tiny cot that the Watchers called a bed, chewing on her bottom lip and staring at a photo of herself, her mother and her aunt while she thought about what to do. There wasn't anyone currently in the Council that she trusted to help her; her Aunt Chelsea was in Ireland last she heard, the Witches she grew up around were on retreat and Rupert Giles worked with the current Slayer in the States.

And that's when she came to her decision: to go join the only male Watcher who had ever done more than simply tolerate her.

After his past as Ripper, when he had made the choice to return to the Council, they had given him an ultimatum: he had to study magic and control with the Devon Coven. During his time there, he and Emma's mother had become good friends and, when Emma was born several years later, he had been made godfather.

He had been the only stable male role model the blonde had ever known in her life.

The question was how to make her move. She had packed a bag of things she couldn't live without and exited her room, only to now find herself stuck mere feet from the exit, hiding behind a wall from a group of Watchers-in-training come over from the academy near Bath.

She hadn't even figured out how to leave the country yet, either.

_One step at a time, Emma._

She closed her eyes as her lips moved silently in a prayer and a pleading to whoever might be listening. And she decided that someone must be, when only minutes later the crowd dispersed and the halls were clear.

She ran down the long hall, trying to make as little noise as possible, knowing it was only a matter of time before another person stepped out of one of the many doors this particular part of the Council building held. And everyone, from Watcher to maid, knew who Emma Garland was on sight.

She pressed her entire, tiny body up against the back exit as her hand grabbed the handle, and before long, she was outside, standing in the pouring rain of downtown London. She pulled the hood over her blonde hair and settled the bag on her shoulder, taking a deep breath in before walking forward, easily blending in with the milling crowd in this large and alive city.

Step one was completed.

On to the next one.

* * *

She brushed her hands down over her hair, feeling ridiculous for trying to look her best with one of the people who couldn't care less about her appearance, but it had become habit by now.

Cordelia had spent the entire day locked up in her bedroom, trying to wrap her mind around everything that had been happening lately, from the arrival of the Slayer to their small town, to being stalked and harassed by an invisible girl, to her best friend dying suddenly.

Even if Aura's death hadn't been due to the supernatural, it may as well have been, considering how dangerous this hometown of hers had been her whole life.

Part of her wanted to curse the day Buffy arrived in Sunnydale; the other part wanted to thank her for coming to protect them all from the Hellmouth that would still have been here, even if she hadn't moved.

Mostly she just wanted her friend back.

Since that wasn't possible, she had to come up with the second best thing. She had gone over and over it in her head, ever since the funeral earlier that morning. Gone over the choices that were now left for her, with the death of Aura and, thus, the death of a little part of her, too.

She could try to survive the next two years, listening to the drivel of her so-called friends, the negligence of her superficial parents, the harsh barbs from the people she didn't even enjoy harassing. Or, she could do what she was planning to do anyway when college came around.

Cordelia knew it would be a long and hard road ahead of her, but in the end, there really was only one choice.

She took in another deep breath before pushing through the library doors and letting it out slowly. At the table in the middle of the room she saw the man she was looking for: the Watcher.

She just hadn't been expecting the hyperventilating and teary form of her Computer Science teacher.

* * *

"Sounds like you've learned so much already, Wills," Buffy said, concentrating on the polish she was carefully applying to her toes.

The redhead nodded, eyes full of glee. "Oh, definitely. It's not like the other stuff I've gotten into over the years; I doubt there's any real point with magic where you've learned everything. There's so much information, so many spells, I could live to be a hundred and still not know it all."

Buffy's smile was halfway sarcastic. "And you love it." It wasn't a question.

Willow nodded emphatically again and got back to her own toenails as she continued. "I do. Both Giles and Ms. Calendar know so much, but I can't wait until someone from the coven can come teach me more. I think it won't be long until they run out of things to teach me and then where will I be?" She said, shrugging one shoulder.

The Slayer rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you'll figure something out. You always do."

The girls continued to paint their nails and chat about what was going on in their lives, both feeling glad for this time without their Xander-shaped friend. They adored him, of course, but knew they could never do girly things like this if he was around. Not if they wanted everyone to have a good time.

They just hoped he wasn't getting into trouble; he was very good at that, unfortunately.

"Are you really okay with Angel leaving?" Willow asked an hour later, when it was time for another topic change.

It was Buffy's turn to shrug a shoulder. "I don't know if I would use the word 'okay,' but I'm dealing. It's not as if he'll be going away forever. He's coming back. I'll just have to deal with missing him until then."

Willow would never say this out loud, for fear of breaking her best friend's heart and expectations, but the redhead had spent some time recently with Anyanka and Spike in which the bleach-blond had told her a little about the trials.

The girl knew there was a very good chance that Angel wouldn't come out of this alive.

If that time came, she would be there for Buffy for comfort, but the last thing she wanted was to make the blonde worry for the next however-many months. Especially if the capable fighter really_ did_ come back in one piece.

Even if Willow was beginning to realize just how wrong the two of them were for each other, she wasn't one to judge and she certainly didn't have any say in who her loved ones dated.

She wouldn't want the shoe to be on the other foot one day.

"What about you?" The Slayer was desperate for a change in conversation. "Aren't you ready to give up on Xander yet so we can get you fixed up with a cute guy?" She teased, smiling at her friend.

Willow blushed until her face was the color of her hair. "I don't think there's anyone around who'd be interested," she practically whispered.

Buffy lifted a hand to lightly slap the redhead on the arm. "Don't be silly, you're a regular fox. Besides, this is a big city. I'll tell you what, from now on, we'll go to a different club when we go out, instead of the same old. You'll be swarmed by cute boys before you know it."

Willow just nodded, not wanting to get into it. She knew better than to change the topic back to Angel, though she really wanted to just so she could get out of this conversation, but she had to change it to something.

Their nails were done and just needed to dry off when the redhead thought of something. "Hey, did you hear that that band is coming to town next week to play at_ Fallons_?"

Buffy frowned as she blew on her toes. "Which band is that? Do you mean that burned CD that Joey was handing out to students the other day?"

Willow nodded. "Yeah, he's been a fan for a while apparently, and wanted to get others on board in time for them to come play a show here. They finally picked a date. Did you listen to it? They're really good."

"Nah, haven't gotten around to it yet. I remember they had a funny name, though, just don't remember what it was," she replied, wrinkling her nose as she thought.

The other girl snorted a laugh. "You should look into your memory problems. Anyway, they're called Dingoes Ate My Baby. They're from that other Hellmouth Giles told us about, in California."

"Oh, cool," the Slayer said, rising up on her heels to walk over to the music player.

However, before she could put in the burned CD and find out if the band really was any good, her abandoned beeper suddenly broke the silence in the room and the girls looked at each other.

Wondering what Giles wanted this time.


End file.
